


Fate Twisted

by cloud_wolfbane



Series: Twist of Fate [2]
Category: House M.D., Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, M/M, Polyamory, What Was I Thinking?, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:25:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloud_wolfbane/pseuds/cloud_wolfbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hal doesn't feel well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Fate Twisted

Hal walked down the hallway of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, feeling an oncoming migraine building behind his eyes. He was so tired walking straight was becoming a difficulty. The last week had involved a father and son case that both had parasites and a poor teenage girl with a tick in a very uncomfortable place. Combined they would not have been bad, but on top of ER rotation, Hal was a dead man walking. When Foreman offered him a pat on the back and a suggestion to go home, he ended up snarling at the poor man. 

Trying to make it back to his apartment seemed like a bad idea, so Hal broke into Wilson’s office and collapsed on his couch. The man had the patience of a saint, he figure he wouldn’t be too mad. 

He fell asleep the moment his head touched down, despite the discomfort in his stomach and the pain behind his eyes. Christ, he didn’t feel good. 

He woke sometime later, Wilson shaking his shoulder. “It`s getting late, I think you can make your way home now. “

Hal glanced at his watch, 2000, he had slept for over four hours. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to pass out like that.” Hal blushed, embarrassed. He still didn’t feel well, his whole body seemed over heated and the pain in his stomach seemed worse, terrible cramps. 

Wilson must have noticed something wrong, because his brow creased in concern. “You don’t look good,” he murmured, reaching out to touch his brow and then take his pulse. “You’re burning up, and you’re pulse is racing. Did you take something?” He leaned forward, nose flaring as he scented along Hal’s neck. “Where are your pills, Hamish?”

Hal shook his head, “I don’t take anything, not even vitamins.” He was so careful with his health, exercising daily and making sure he ate a balanced diet, he had never been sick in his life. 

“I’ll be right back,” Wilson murmured.

Hal must have dozed off again, because the next thing he knew, House was kneeling beside the couch and gripping his wrist. 

Hal offered a half-hearted growl. Something was very wrong. 

House poked and prodded him, looking closely at his pupils and scenting along his neck again. Then, without warning, he pushed two fingers against Hal’s cloth covered bum and pushed. 

Yesterday, Hal would have ripped his head off for such a thing. House was the only other class A Alpha he knew besides his Papa and himself. 

Now, he felt the cramping in his stomach tighten and his whole body arched. He started panting, and couldn’t decide weather to push back against the pressure or run away. 

Luckily, House removed his hand and chuckled. 

Wilson looked somewhere between appalled and furious. 

“Never met one in person, how rare,” House grinned, like someone had showed up with Lupus. 

“You don’t think…” Wilson trailed off. 

House scoffed, “Of course I do, its obvious. You thought so as well or you wouldn’t have got me.”

“What are you talking about?” Hal hissed between clenched teeth. 

“What is it your Dad says, ‘once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth’,” House teased. 

Hal growled again, trying to think what they meant. Of course, he knew what they were inferring, but no…no absolutely not. 

Wilson kneeled beside him, “Hal its very rare, but its not impossible.”

House smirked, “Congratulations Rain-man you’re one in a billion.”

Hal collapsed into the couch, all the effort zapped from his body. “Hermaphrodite.”

House looked pleased, “Half Alpha/Half Omega, only three other listed in the entire planet. Of course, you Rain-man are half class A Alpha and Class A Omega. Must be confusing as hell.”

“I’m going into my first heat, but I’m well past puberty,” Hal was grasping at straws. 

Wilson shook his head, “You went through Alpha puberty first, and it must have taken longer for the hormones in your system to build up to the heat.” 

“I can get Chase for you, I’m sure he’d help…relieve some tension,” House commented.  
Hal lurched forward, grabbed House by the back of his neck, and snarled. Chase was a class C Beta, not even worth a glance to an Alpha; his Omega hormones found the idea repulsive. 

“Get me a suppressant,” Hal hissed. 

“No can do, this far into your heat, a suppressant would just make you sick,” House remarked, not bothered at all by his posturing. 

Hal wanted to growl and bite and howl, instead he caught a whiff of House’s unique pheromones, ramped up from close proximity to an Omega in Heat. He couldn’t help himself, Hal nudged his nose against his jawline, feeling the stubble scrape across his face as he scented. 

“Hamish,” Wilson called, calm as ever.

Hal leaned back, wide eyed. He knew House and Wilson had shared their last heat together. Wilson was a class A Omega that had made it to his position as head of his department by shear force of will. Evidenced by his two failed marriages and complete lack of children. House and Wilson hadn’t mated, the mark wasn’t there, but scenting an Alpha in front of his Omega was beyond rude. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t…I can’t think straight. Do you have any, er,” Hal stammered. 

Wilson went to his desk and pulled a medicine bottle from his drawer. He pulled out one little, white pill and handed it to Hal. 

Hal glanced at the label and smiled, grateful. “Thank you,” he murmured and swallowed the birth control dry. “Is the ward-room open?” Hal asked, sitting up, “If you lock me up it should be okay.”

“Don’t be foolish, you would just hurt yourself,” Wilson scowled. He was looking at House, face tight with internal debate. 

Hal stood on shaking legs, holding himself up by the arm of the couch. “I won’t let any less than a class A mount, and I have no intentions of coming between you and House. Just lock me in the ward-room, I can only do so much damage. “

“Just…come on,” Wilson grabbed Hal’s arm and pulled him out the door. They went to the fourth floor, at the very end of the hall, House limping after. 

The ward-room was an old hold over from when the hospital was new. It was an honest to goodness padded room. Sound and scent proof, it was the perfect place to put an Omega in an unexpectant heat. 

Hal leaned into a corner; the padded walls were surprisingly comfortable. The thought of being trapped in here, of these padded, empty walls while his hormones went mad, it was enough to leave him gasping. 

“House…” Wilson trailed off, looking at the Alpha. 

“You’re too nice of a guy Wilson, always helping the needy” House shook his head, closing the door behind him. 

“He can’t, not alone, its terrible. Do you… Do you even want too?”

House chuckled, “I’m good at many things, but saying no to temptation is not one of them.”

Hamish watched them go back and forth, knowing the conclusion was inevitable. Wilson might be territorial over House, but as a doctor and an Omega he knew the pain Hal was going to suffer through if he tried to go through this heat alone. And of course, House, being an unbonded Alpha, needed little prompting.

Wilson stalked up to Hal and took his face in his hands, forcing them face-to-face. “Is this okay, Hal? You have to speak up. House will help you, but only if you want him too.”

Hal had seen videos of the stages of an Omega heat in med school. He knew that in an hour or so if he wasn’t knotted he would steadily lose control of his facilities. He would try to break from the room in search of a mate, and when he couldn’t he would try to stimulate himself, but his fingers wouldn’t be enough. When the pain became too much he would start hurting himself, biting and scratching in animal confusion. 

“I’m nervous,” he admitted, licking his lips. “But I would rather not do this alone.” 

Wilson sighed, before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his brow. “Would it help if I stayed?”

Hal nodded, unable to verbalize. 

Wilson helped him remove his shirt; Hal’s fingers were shaking too much to handle the buttons. 

“Well, this certainly isn’t what I expected when I came to work today,” House smirked.

“House,” Wilson chastised, even as Hal pulled off his trousers. 

Soon, Hal was standing in front of the older doctors in just his black pants. He could now feel the sticky, wetness of lubrication against his thighs. He had just entered the second stage of heat. 

House put down his cane before removing his trousers and pants, he left his shirt on. “Best on your knees Rain-man, I should check to make sure everything is where it’s suppose to be.”

“My name is Hal, and when did you become a gynecologist?” Hal growled, but got to his knees anyways. Amazingly, House’s usual gruffness was helping. 

“Didn’t you know? I know everything.” House kneeled beside him and plucked at the waist of his pants. “Shy?”

Hal snarled and got to his knees so he could wriggle out of his pants. He threw them into a corner and faced House, fully. “No, didn’t want to embarrass you old man.” Years of team sports and good food had given him a chiseled form; muscular and sturdy like his Papa, but with the lithe height of his Dad. And no matter how ridiculous his biology was currently being, his was built like an Alpha, knot and all. 

House whistled his appreciation. “Well, alright then, Hal,” he drawled his name in a clear tease. 

Hal gave one last showing of teeth before he rolled back on his knees. 

House examined him with clinical precision, pressing two fingers in with ease and curling them with expert skill. 

Hal felt a slight burn of muscles unaccustomed to being stretched. It was uncomfortable until House curled his fingers just right. He rocked forward into Wilson, whining pitifully as his prostate was probed. 

“Hey, hey, its okay,” Wilson soothed, running his hands through Hal’s hair and along his tense jaw. 

“Clearly someone’s never experimented,” House commented, continuing to press his fingers forward. His fingers dipped at a strange angle and Hal felt a pinch of pain. 

“What was that?” Hal tried to turn to look, but was rather trapped between the two men. 

“That was the edge out your cervix. It just started to dilate, I imagine you will be in full heat in a few minutes,” House comment, pulling out. 

Wilson looked surprised. “So its not just the heat, its everything? He’s fully half and half.” 

House shrugged, “Hard to tell without an ultra sound and hormone testing, but it appears our Hal is a fully functioning hermaphrodite.” He sounded ridiculously pleased. “Little dry, though that could just be first heat. Want to push it along a little bit?”

Hal could just imagine the wink being turned his way. “Just do it.”

“Course,” House smirked. His fingers were back, three this time and he pressed them with full force into his prostate. 

Hal screamed. “To much! Too much,” but House was leaning over his back and suddenly there were teeth at his neck and Alpha pheromones flooding his senses. 

He would have fallen on his face if Wilson hadn’t been there, holding him up and whispering platitudes into his ear. Hal could feel his entire body go limp and receptive. Whatever part of his mind that was Omega had just been activated. He lowered his chest and arms, presenting. Fresh wetness was flowing down his thighs, probably soaking House’s shirt. 

House was above him and around him, filling the air with class A Alpha scent. His unique markers were a mixture of coffee, pills, and something like alcohol. It wasn’t the least bit comforting, instead something manly and dangerous that set Hal’s teeth on edge. 

Three fingers became four, but House was careful not to press so heavily on his prostate again. He wiggled his fingers, stretching and spreading. 

“Please,” Hal keened, spreading his thighs a bit wider. 

“He’s in full heat now,” Wilson remarked, still running soothing hands through his hair. 

House gave a huff of agreement, and then the fingers were gone. 

Hal cried out at the loss, but soon there was something else pressing against his entrance. House held his status for a reason, the press of his member burned. He felt skewered, and yet the pain that had been building for hours suddenly calmed. 

House leaned over his back again, pressing a bit deeper as he bit harder on his scruff. 

The submission bite, made Hal relax further, enough for House to slide all the way, the bump of his knot settled just inside. 

“You okay?” Wilson asked. 

Hal nodded. “It feels really strange, burns, but I’m okay,” he wasn’t sure how he manage to articulate anything, but Wilson was releasing his own pheromones, a calming mix of coffee, chocolate, and something weirdly floral. The strong scent of an older Omega was oddly steadying. 

Hal watched as Wilson looked over him at House. He gave a sharp nod. 

House almost drove him forward with the force of his trusts, knocking the breath out him. The sting was still there, the slight pang, each time the knot was forced in and out of him. He could feel it expanding, growing with each trust. 

“This is going to hurt,” House grunted.

Hal did fall forward at the force of House’s trust, the swelling knot hitting against his opening. It didn’t go in. 

Wilson gave an uncharacteristic curse ad grabbed Hal’s arms, holding him down with his full weight. “Sorry,” he murmured. 

Hal squeezed his eyes shut. 

House gave two more rapid thrusts, pulling out all the way to give his full weight behind the last one. The knot forced its way through, locking them tight. 

Hal screamed even as he came. The knot was pushing full force into his prostate while he could feel House filling his newly open cervix. 

Wilson let him go, allowing Hal to collapse against the padded floor. 

He was panting heavily, sight blurred from the tears in his eyes. “You…” he panted, gathering his voice with a gulp, “You’re pretty strong for a guy with a bad leg.” He’d be damned if he just let himself lay on the floor crying. 

House huffed; he was plastered against Hal’s back, exhausted. “Its all in the hips.” 

Hal gave a weak laugh. “Can you shift over?”

“Yeah,” House muttered. He used his arm to pull Hal to his side, cradling him in the curve of his body. 

“I should go check the lock,” Wilson muttered, looking nervous and shy all of the sudden. 

Hal reached out, pulling the man back down. “No, stay, please.” He knew he was being selfish, helping Hal relax was Wilson’s doctor instincts, watching his future Alpha knotted and cuddling another Omega, was something else entirely. 

Still, Wilson curled up in front of Hal and allowed himself to be pulled back into him. Hal nuzzled his neck and enjoyed the calming scent. 

“Hal?” Wilson asked. 

“Yeah?” 

“How old are you anyways?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Christ, we’re old enough to be your father.” Wilson cussed. 

Hal fell asleep still chuckling. 

Hal wasn’t sure how much time passed when he woke back up, but House was no longer locked inside him, having slipped out at some point. Wilson was still tucked against his front, and the man appeared to be sleeping. 

Hal carefully rose on his arms. 

He found House watching him from a corner, already dressed. “Knotting so soon into a first heat stopped it, no need for a marathon.”

Hal felt sore all over, his neck stung terribly and his thighs were shaking. He reached back, touching carefully at his entrance. He pulled back fingers coated in semen, lubricate, and blood. He winced at the sight, not seeing that House did the same. 

“Thanks, I guess,” Hal remarked, looking at Wilson.

“Do you want the week off or do you want as many cases as I can throw at you?” House asked, head tilted. 

Hal finally looked at him as he pulled himself to his feet. He knew House was offering him an out. A week off to get his head settled or a week of endless work to keep his mind off things. It was oddly nice. “I’ll take a week off, I think.”

House nodded.  
Hal dressed and somehow made it out of the hospital, leaving House and Wilson to deal with each other. He took a taxi to his apartment even if the Beta looked at him funny the whole way. He knew he must smell like a walking orgy. He settled for just snapping at the man. 

When he was safely home and scrubbed himself clean in the shower, he found himself in his bed with his phone. It was insanely early in London, but he dialed the familiar number anyways. 

His Dad answered on the first ring. “Hal? Are you okay?”

Hal felt exactly five years old as his sniffled, loudly. “Dad, how long would it take you to get here?”

Sherlock Holmes was a man of action, prone to doing insane things in the name of a case or science. His answer was instant, “John and I will be on the first flight out. Does Mycroft need to send someone to get you?”

“No, I just… I’ll see you tomorrow,” Hal wiped his eyes. 

“Alright, Hal. Love you.”

“Love you, too Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, I have no idea where this came from. Sorry for the lack of tags, but I didn't want to make it to obvious. If I offended anyone I apologize. 
> 
> May add to this someday. Opinion?
> 
> Oh I almost forgot to add, the whole Class A,B, and C thing. It refers to dominance, a Class A Alpha is the most dominate, Class B being the most common, and Class C being the least dominate. Each group, Alpha, Beta, and Omega, has the three classes. Hal is class A so he is picky.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the parents

Part Two

 

Sherlock and John arrived at the airport late in the afternoon. Sherlock used his usual gift to hail a cab. The trip to Hal’s apartment was nerve racking and he spent it tapping his foot. 

“Calm down, Sherlock,” John whispered, gripping his knee. Of course, John had spent the entire trip twitching his fingers for his missing gun. 

When they reached the apartment, the Hal that opened the door was not his usual self. He had dark rings under his eyes and there was a terrible collection of bruises peaking from behind his neck. 

“What happened?” Sherlock snarled, every protective instinct in him roaring to life. 

“I’m sorry Dad, it’s a long story,” Hal sighed, wrapping Sherlock in a hug. “Hey Papa,” Hal transferred his hug, burrowing into his Papa’s scent, safe. 

“Hal, love, let’s sit down,” John soothed, helping Hal to the couch. 

Sherlock curled up with his mate and son. So close, the scent of a foreign Alpha was strong, a foreign Alpha’s mating marker. “Were you attacked?” Sherlock growled, fully prepared to hunt the man down and gut him. 

Hal shook his head. “No, I…Dad I’m a freak.”

John shook with the force of his growl. “No, you are not. Tell us who did this and we will deal with it.”

“I’m a, I went into heat, I wasn’t attacked,” Hal barely whispered. 

“Hal, that’s not possible,” John gaped. 

“Its not probable,” Sherlock looked down in thought. 

“I thought the same, it came on suddenly. Dr. House and Dr. Wilson helped me out,” Hal said, blushing. 

John covered his mouth, hand shaking. 

Sherlock curled closer around his son. “You say helped, but Hamish your neck is a collection of submission bruises. Alpha’s don’t need to make those kind of marks on the willing.” 

Hal shook his head. “I was nervous, it helped. Dr. House is a jerk and a mad man, but he’s not a rapist. Please calm down.” 

“Hal, how can we help?” John asked.

“I just needed you here. I freaked out, sorry. I need to go to the hospital and get an ultrasound done, maybe a round of hormone tests,” Hal was rambling.

“It’s a normal response, nothing to feel sorry for. John and I will accompany you to the hospital,” Sherlock remarked, firmly. His mind was a blur of deductions and fierce protectiveness. Hal’s scent had changed dramatically since the last time he had seen his son; a mixture of coffee, tea, and antiseptic. There was an extremely confusing musk of Alpha and a sweet Omega undertone. 

“You don’t have too…” Hal whined, knowing his parents would come to the hospital to harass House. 

The trip to the hospital was a quite one, Sherlock could tell Hamish was conflicted, about what, he was unsure. 

Hal was no less commanding then before, acquiring an empty room and an ultra sound machine with little trouble. Though Sherlock suspected that had as much to do with him being on Dr. House’s team as anything else. 

John worked the machine, having some experience from his time in the Army. He rubbed the gel low on Hal’s abdomen and started his search. With nothing in it, the womb was hard to find, but John finally located the tiny black mass amongst the other organs. 

“Shit,” Hal cussed, looking at the screen. 

“Did you er, use protection,” John asked. A question Sherlock had been debating for some time. 

“Birth control, there is no telling if I actually have eggs though. Hermaphrodites are almost always sterile in some way,” Hal suggested. 

In response, John drew a rainbow of blood tubs and then sent Hal to the bathroom with a cup and a blush. 

“I’ll take these to the lab,” Sherlock offered. He knew John and Hal needed some alone time. Hamish had presented as an Alpha around the same time Copernicus was born. Sherlock had been pleased, glad his son would never have to choose between suppressants or birth control and sharing his heat with whomever he happened to be with at the time. John had been sad, having hoped Hal would have a chance with a family as a beta. Neither had expected this. 

The sudden change in his body and psyche would be something Hal would want to discuss with John. Sherlock would offer his advice as an Omega, later. 

The hospital had two labs, the main one that tested the patients on a day-to-day basis, and a smaller test lab that dealt with experimental procedures. 

The experimental lab was dark and quiet; the only person present was, of course, Dr. House. He was perched in front of a microscope, adjusting the sight. Bags under his eyes suggest problems sleeping and a slight hangover, most likely scotch. His injured leg was spasming, a sign of damage, results of yesterday’s activities no doubt. The twitching in his fingers and the redness of his eyes show drug addiction, pain from leg and occupation would suggest a strong painkiller. 

“Reading my history in my shirt cuffs,” House laughed, looking up from the microscope. “I have a hard time guessing Hal’s actions, but calling his parents wasn’t my first guess.” 

“He had a difficult night, he needed help he clearly couldn’t find here,” Sherlock growled. 

House twirled around on his seat. “I thought I helped him just fine.”

Sherlock rushed forward, picking House up bodily by his collar. “He had two, maybe three, submission bites on his neck. He is sore and hurting, I would hardly call that helping. Of course you knew he wouldn’t be receptive. How could he? You have Wilson.”

House sneered, pushing away from Sherlock’s grip. “Wilson and I aren’t bonded.”

“Well that’s not entirely true is it, Doctor,” Sherlock relished the look of surprise on his face. “ Dr. Wilson’s first marriage was to a beta, little chance of bonding there. His second marriage though, that was to an Alpha female, but his bond mark never took. Wilson thinks he is barren, that he can’t bond, but we both know that’s not true. I could scent it the moment I met you. A less dominant Alpha could not mark over your mark on Wilson.”

“You can check his collar, I’ve left no mark,” House snarled now, rising up with aid of his cane. 

“It isn’t that sort of bond, trust me I know.”

House blinked, surprised. “You and John, then?”

Sherlock nodded, “Emotional bonds aren’t nearly as rare as a fully functional hermaphrodite.”

“No, I imagine not. I didn’t realize it would affect him until knotting. The real question is, why, after only a single knotting, his heat stopped?” House turned his head like a curious puppy, unrepentant.

Sherlock barely resisted the urge to stab him in the eye with a needle. Instead, his mind whirled at the statement. An omega’s heat only stopped for two reasons, pregnancy or bonding; neither was an acceptable option. “Here,” Sherlock growled, trusting the tubes of blood and the cup of sperm at the doctor. “This may help answer that question.”

House looked at the blood like Sherlock looked at locked room murders. 

Needing to leave before he did something John would dislike, Sherlock headed for the door. 

“I would never risk my bond with Wilson, he gave me permission. You know an Alpha can’t bond two omegas, but can an Alpha bond an Omega and something else?” House grinned.   
Sherlock rounded on him. He slammed the doctor to the floor with a snarl. “Stay away from my son, or they will never find your body.”

Sherlock left the room with his arms still shaking from adrenaline. 

****

Wilson found House in the lab, surrounded by printouts. 

“What’s this then?” he asked, picking up a vial of blood by the chemistry analyzer. It was simply labeled Watson-Holmes, Hamish. “House, the boy is taking a week off. Did you go to his house for this?”

House scoffed, “Daddy dearest brought these down for me, I didn’t even have to leave my chair.”

“He called his parents?” Wilson was shocked. 

“I know, who would have thought Rain-man is a daddy’s boy,” House teased. 

Wilson scowled, but resisted the urge to hit the man over the head. “What were the results?”

“Take a look.”

Wilson took the offered papers and flipped through rows of hormone results. “This is amazing.” Hal’s testosterone levels had dropped to Omega levels while his progesterone had increased, but judging by the numbers his testosterone was on a steady rise. “He’s fertile, is his…” he trailed off, glancing at the microscope. 

House slid over. “Take a look.” 

The slide was still in place, showing an impressive number of sperm. A good percent was motile with the usual average of odd morphology. Wilson whistled as he pulled away. “His hormones regulate when he is Alpha or omega, but he is fertile in both ways. 

“His progesterone built up while his testosterone dropped to produce the heat, as well as a spike in HCG. Only a day after and his levels are working back up to Alpha levels. It would take a few days of testing to determine his cycle, but I would say he will regulate in and out of heat every six months,” House lectured, looking pleased with himself. 

“Wait!” Wilson exclaimed, grabbing up another paper. “His HCG shifted?” The numbers on the paper were not what he wanted to see. “His body flushed the birth control pill?”  
House shrugged, “His body regulates hormones like a well oiled machine, the introduction of the HCG must have thrown it off balance, so he flushed it.” 

“House, he is a fully functioning, fertile Omega that you just knotted without working birth control!” Wilson nearly snarled. He had spent the last year courting with the recalcitrant Doctor and now a twenty-three year old intern was going to ruin it. 

House laid a hand on his shoulder. “It didn’t take, I checked. “

Wilson blinked, “Its less than twenty-four hours, and his heat stopped so suddenly.” 

House was not about to explain that he might have emotionally bonded two Omegas. “Perhaps his hormone levels weren’t up for his first heat. Most Omegas have a short first heat. His levels are rising too fast for a pregnancy, however. I imagine if he did get pregnant, then he would stay at Omega levels for the deration.” 

Wilson ran his hand through his hair and sighed. 

House pressed forward, scenting along his collar before kissing him. Wilson still smelled of their tentative bond, even if he was the only one that could smell it. 

***

The rest of the week was mostly peaceful. Hal stayed out of the hospital, even as the kids asked after him. They had an interesting case of a woman with vitamin K deficiency that presented in an odd way. Wilson spent the week marking his territory; House had never been so thoroughly laid. 

Overall, it would have been great, except for one thing. At the end of the week, after solving the vitamin K case, House was heading back to his office when he ran into someone. 

The man was short with blonde/grey hair and a cuddly sweater. He looked absolutely harmless, but he smelled of Class A Alpha and House recognized him. 

“Dr. House,” the man greeted, holding out his hand. 

“Mr. John Watson, I presume,” House responded, shaking his hand. 

John smiled,” Doctor actually, it was nice to meet you.” 

That was all he said, before going off down the corridor. House felt a shiver work down his spine, shaking his whole body.   
He knew that when Sherlock Holmes threatened him, that the detective was more then capable of making his body disappear without so much as a hint of a clue. He had not known, however, that Mr. Holmes was not the major threat. 

If House immediately went to the bathroom to disinfect his hand, it was only because of hospital policy, not because of the tiny doctor that smelled of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why I wrote this, but it seemed a shame not to post it after writing it. I don't know if I will add on to this or not. It's seems weird to write a poly-relationship crossover with my own character and Omega verse. Thats a stretch even for me.


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains mention of underage pregnancy and abortion, but not graphic.

Part Three

The days after his brief vacation were strange to say the least. No one asked why the intern simply disappeared for a week, but Hal wasn’t sure if House said something or if they where just used to not asking questions. 

House treated him as he always did, which was somewhere between contempt and favoritism. Sometimes House treated him like any other intern, and other times he yelled at his doctors for not realizing things Hal picked up on immediately. 

At first, Hal honestly wasn’t certain if the treatment came from his Class A Alpha status or simply because Hal could follow his train of thought easier than the others. Now, with his new status, Hal knew he was over analyzing everything. 

He started keeping more to himself, but that wasn’t much different than before. While House and the others dealt with a boy that seemed to think he was abducted by aliens, Hal spent his time in the ER doing mindless work. 

Dr. Cuddy seemed pleased that at least one of House’s team was doing his ER time, which helped keep House off his back. 

Though if Hal had known what would happen, he may have avoided the ER like the rest of them. 

In between a woman that simply refused to take her heparin and an old man that thought he had arthritis, but was really being slowly poisoned by his wife, Hal met Ethan. 

Ethan was a young boy of fourteen. He was on the edge of the hospital bed, looking nervous. His eyes darted from side to side, but always stopped on the door as if contemplating fleeing. 

Hal took in his appearance with care. He had wild black hair and green eyes; he also had the very distinctive scent of a class B Omega, which had the slightest hint of sweetness that usually accompanied the beginnings of pregnancy. Tears in his pants and his too large shirt suggested a poor family. His height and build showed signs of malnutrition.

“Ethan Winter, I presume?” Hal gave his best ‘I’m a Doctor, trust me, smile.’

Ethan scowls at him as only a teenager can. 

“What can I do for you, Ethan?” Hal speaks softly, the same gentle tones his papa uses. 

“You’re an Alpha?” Ethan seems unsure. 

“Ah, I’m afraid that is a long story. Perhaps, we could concentrate on your story, yeah.” He took a seat beside the computer.

“I…” Ethan growls, fists clenched, “I need a morning after pill.” 

The morning after pill had come out ten years ago and had instantly been taken off the shelf. With so few fertile people being born, anything to stop pregnancies was being more and more restricted. 

“How long has it been?”

“Three days,” Ethan swallowed, looking anywhere, but at Hal. 

“You have a mating mark,” Hal commented, though the boy’s shirt covered it, he could scent the distinctive marker. 

“You won’t do it then,” Ethan stood up, snarling. “He bit my neck like a dog with a bone and because he’s rich and I’m just a…a breeder, you won’t do anything about it. Even though I won’t be able to go to school now and everything is just ruined, ruined!“

“Now, hold on, I didn’t say that. The pill can be given by a physician if he or she believes the pregnancy will threaten the health of the mother. You are fourteen years old and underweight, I would not recommend this pregnancy due to your age alone, your weight only makes it more dangerous.” 

Ethan did a double take, starring at him with wide eyes, bright with unshed tears. “You’ll…”

Hal grabbed the pills from one of the locked drawers and handed over two with a cup of water. 

Ethan gulped them down like Hal would snatch them away. “Why would you do that? You’re an Alpha, or at least you smell like one.”

“Ethan, not all Alpha’s are terrible people. My papa is an Alpha and an excellent doctor and parent. Also, I would never risk a patient’s health if I can help it, but I do have to ask; do you want me to call the A/O Abuse Services? Even if your parents signed a contract, you are not old enough to be sharing heats. “

Ethan sat back down, wringing his fingers, “They signed a contract with an older Alpha, they, uh, they needed the money. My heat came earlier than we expected, I wouldn’t have shared it if I had known. It just sorta happened.” 

When Hal first presented, his Dad had finally sat him down and explained the complete story of his shared heat with Papa and the drugs that had been involved. ‘It just sorta happened’ was not as ridiculous of an explanation as it could be. 

“If you ever need anything, anything at all. I want you to call Ethan. I know you don’t want me calling Services, so I won’t, but if you change your mind I will give my testimony as your Doctor, alright?” Hal handed over his card for the boy. 

“Your not quite an Alpha are you? You have the sharp spicy scent of one, but there are hints of sweet things, non-Alpha scents,” Ethan muttered as he took the card.

Hal grinned, “You of all people should know that gender isn’t everything. Now, remember your suppressants and try to finish school, yeah.”

“Why bother? I’m mated now and under contract. I won’t be able to go to college, he wouldn’t let me.”

“Ask him, the world is changing, even if it moving very slowly about it. You never know,” Hal offered. He knew his advice was lacking, but he was unsure what else to say. His family was so far from traditional he could scarcely comment on a child in contract. In the eyes of the law, such deals were still legal. In fact, giving Ethan the pill without permission from his Alpha or parents was on the close end of illegal. 

“Thanks, Dr…” Ethan glanced at his tag, “Dr. Watson-Holmes.” He tucked the card into his pockets and scurried out the door. He was so small and so young, but at least he looked a little less dejected then he had before. 

***

The rest of the week should have been a little less dramatic, but then again, Hal worked for Dr. House. 

A man came in with severe fever, flu-like symptoms, and aching joints. Cameron was convinced it was Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, but House argued there was no sign of the traditional target-like rash and that was the end of that.   
The crew ran around trying to build a diagnosis while the patient was dying in front of them. 

Hal, because he knew better than to believe diseases actually followed the books, grabbed one of the spare red-top tubes and headed down to the lab. 

One of the Micro techs, Steve, was reading the news on his computer; it was apparently a slow day. “Hey, Hal,” he greeted switching over to the Meditech program the lab results went into. “What can I help you with?”

“I’ve got a RMSF I need run, stat. Think you can hook me up?” Hal wiggled the tube. 

Steve gave a thoughtful look, “I don’t know, I’m so busy,” he laughed, gesturing to the empty counter. 

Hal laughed along, handing over the tube. “How long do you think it will take?”

“Well, that’s a latex test, but it certainly isn’t one of the fastest ones. It has a 30 minute incubation period and then longer if I have to titer it.” Steve walked him back to the TB room where they ran most of their serology tests plus the occasional fungus reading or mycobacterium slide. 

“I know it’s a pain, but can you run the titers side by side? I need this as quick as possible,” Hal gave his best puppy eyes. 

“Go away you, I’ll have this done in 45 minutes give or take,” Steve shooed him off. 

“Thanks, you’re a star,” Hal grinned. He wandered about the hospital for awhile, not really having enough time to get bogged down in the ER or have House order him to break into another flat or something. 

When he made his was back to lab, Steve handed over the card. “You were right, saved me some time to do the titers with it.”

Hal swirled the card, watching the obvious clumps of coagulation that indicated a positive result. “Is it a confirmed positive?”

“Oh yeah, went all the way out to 1: 256, this guy has RMSF no doubt.” Steve was kind enough to print out the positive results from the computer for him. 

Hal brought them upstairs and handed them over to House in the conference room even as they were contemplating brain surgery or something equally ridiculous. “I really don’t know what you have against the lab, sometimes the tests take time, but honestly.” 

House looked over the results with a scowl. “Cameron get the patient started on Doxycycline,” he sighed like a petulant child. 

“Wha… so it was?” Cameron stuttered. She shut up with a look from House, and scurried off to give the treatment. 

The rest of the team left to finish other duties, leaving Hal alone with House for the first time in weeks. 

“I suppose you enjoyed that one,” House smirked.

Hal shrugged, feeling smug. “Its not my fault you like everything to be difficult and can’t be bothered to use the lab for its actual purpose. “

“I don’t like to be challenged in my office,” House growled. 

Hal had challenged, teased, and outright insulted House over the course of his internship and the man had done nothing but call him names on occasion and once put salt in his coffee, but he had never snarled. 

House could move quickly when he wanted to, and suddenly Hal found himself pushed against the table, House at his back. 

House tried to get to his neck, but Hal wasn’t in heat. His mind was clear and whirling. He spun with the hold on his arm, breaking the grasp with his momentum. 

House struck out with his cane, a rather sturdy thing that brought Hal to his knees with a sharp crack. 

Growling, he surged up, only to have House grip around his throat. The fingers were amazingly strong, the tips digging into his pulse. 

“GREG!” Wilson shouted from the door. 

The grip loosened, but didn’t drop. Hal could barely shift to focus on the entrance of Dr. Wilson. The man’s face was flushed and he had lost his tie somewhere. The first two buttons were undone from his shirt and he seemed to be sweating. 

Shit!

That would explain the sudden attack. 

Wilson was going into heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You jerks, I meant to be done with this, but everyone has been writing me such lovely reviews that I ended up writing another chapter. 
> 
> What will happen next? I have no idea. 
> 
> FYI: I used to work in a Micro lab and have run my fair share of RMSF, so don't mind me if some of the wordings are a bit strange.


	4. Part Four

Hamish had never actually been in a dominance fight. He had seen plenty of them, of course, but no one messed with a class A alpha.

A girl in his class had once presented in the middle of maths and the alphas had responded in a fury, biting and attacking at each other. Hamish had given one low growl and the entire room had made way for him to lead the girl to the nursing office. 

It was a startling revelation to realize that not only did House consider him a threat, but also that Hamish wanted to prove him right. 

He took House’s distraction as a chance to attack and they fell to the floor like a pack of snarling dogs. There was no thought to form or function. Hamish attacked with teeth and nails curled like claws. 

He was stronger and younger than House, but the man was defending an old claim, an emotional bond. He fought like the devil. 

“Greg! Hamish! Stop!” Wilson shouted at them, but it was a useless endeavor. He closed and locked the door, then checked the blinds to make sure no one could see into the room. His guts were clenching in discomfort and he was sweating with fever. His heat was already close and the building pheromones of two battling Alphas wasn’t helping. 

It was ridiculous, the whole display. He had spent his whole life trying to work his way up in the world, despite his gender and his heats, Wilson had worked his way into a powerful position in the hospital, but he could not help the thrill of seeing two powerful men fighting for his heat. 

Hal topped first, shoving House to the ground by his shoulders. He pushed forward to bite submission into his neck, but House flipped tumbling the younger alpha to the ground. 

They were beyond words now, communicating in body language and snarls. 

Hamish went for the neck again and the collided with a thump. 

Wilson winced in sympathy, they had drawn bloody scratches across each others’ arms and faces. House’s shirt was torn at the top three buttons and Hal had a rip along his collar. 

When the fight ended the winner wasn’t a great surprise. Hamish slammed House once more into the ground with enough force to knock the older man out. 

With the winner decided, room ripe with pheromones, Wilson felt his heat start with a rush. He closed his eyes and bit back a whimper. 

Wilson had decided when he presented that he was going to make something of himself. That he was going to be the first omega Oncologist, but once he had reached his dream and was truly ready to settle down and have a family it had not happened. His first mate a beta, the second unable to mark him, and House knotting him for two heats straight but never biting into that space on Wilson’s neck to make the mating official. 

Hamish’s hands were gentle and reverent as he touched Wilson. He starred at him in awe, despite his pupils being blown so wide there was only a slim ring of silver-blue left. 

It would be so very easy to succumb to the younger man. So high on pheromones, Hal would bite without hesitation. Wilson could start the family he wanted. 

Hamish pressed kisses along his neck, suckling at the flesh so the points of his elongated canines scraped the skin. 

Wilson shivered, “Hamish, I didn’t give permission.” It hurt to say that, hurt more than anything, but Hamish was a young alpha, he had no more interest in Wilson than his hormones told him to. 

Hamish froze; his hands still pressed against the omegas hips, where he had been holding them slotted together. “Please,” he asked, voice so low it was basically a purr. 

“Yes James, please.”

Wilson’s eyes snapped open, shocked at his first name and the voice saying it. 

House was pressed against Hamish’s back his head resting against the boy’s bared neck. It was such a strange position to see after the fight before, but Hamish did not seem to mind. 

“I’m not sure if I’m quite willing to give you permission this time either,” Wilson snarled. 

House smirked, intrigued by the challenge, but Hal through them both.

“Come back to mine,” the young Alpha grinned between the two of them, though his checks were bright red. “Both of you.” 

“Oh,” House exclaimed, “Oh! Yes let’s, shall we?” 

This seemed like the worst idea Wilson had ever contemplated…ever. He bowed his head, pressing against the shoulders of the Alpha’s biding for him. One smelled of bitter medicine and strength, the other smelled of freshly brewed tea and comfort. They both smelled like danger. He murmured against the sweat slick skin beneath him, “Oh god yes,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm curious what you guys think about this, which is why I stopped where I did. Should I continue this to what is leading to my first attempt at a *cough* polyamorous relationship?


	5. Part Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um Happy Valentine's Day?

Part Five

They took Wilson’s car, but Hamish drove. Wilson didn’t seem to have the concentration to drive, and spent the trip wriggly in the passenger seat. The scent was amazing, Hamish had never been so glad to live close by. 

His flat was a small condo, probably too expensive for a college student, but he enjoyed the space to stretch out. Hal led the two older men to his bedroom on the second floor, he was glad for his queen bed, an indulgence after years on a full. 

“Not bad,” House whistled, nosily poking about Hal’s things.

Wilson smacked his hand away from an antique that had been a gift from his uncle. “Greg,” he hissed, but the man just rolled his eyes in response. 

Hamish chuckled, elated to have these two mad man in his flat, in his den. Something about it felt right and it helped to ease some of the pain in his chest he had been feeling for months now. 

“Come here,” Wilson gestured him closer. 

“You sure, Wilson,” Hal had to ask, had to make sure.

“Its James,” was his response. 

Hal grinned, appeased. He herded Wilson, no James, against the bed nuzzling and nipping against his neck. 

James groaned happily, tugging at Hal’s trousers. 

House appeared suddenly, not one to be left out. He helped James out of his shirt, before forcing Hamish’s head up in a fierce kiss. 

Hamish delved into it, a mixture of passion and ferocity.  
“Christ,” James breathed beneath them, unimaginably turned on by the display. 

House pulled away, grinning. 

Their clothes fell to the wayside after that; shirts, trousers, and pants thrown about the room. 

Hamish found himself between James’s legs, the heavy scent of heat driving him mad, but he held himself back, thighs quivering. House was beside him, nipping at his neck, “Go on,” he purred, eyes glinting. 

Hamish didn’t need anymore coaxing; he lined himself up and pushed carefully into Wilson. The way was slick with lubricate, a smooth glide into warm, wet, heat. 

“Fuck,” he cussed. He had never had a chance to mate with an omega. It was such a strange feeling. He could feel himself shift just beyond James’s second opening; he could feel the pressure at the base of his penis where his knot was already developing in response to a fertile mate. 

When he started thrusting, hips stuttering into a pounding rhythm, House moved away from his neck, moving behind him and out of sight. 

“Harder,” James snarled. 

“Gladly,” Hamish grinned, pulling almost completely out before slamming back in. He lifted James up by his thighs, forcing the man almost in half to get right at that spot. 

When the pressure started to build and he could feel the sharp sting of his knot forcing its way in and out of the body beneath him, he stuttered his hips to small thrusts until he felt the knot inflate fully, tying them together. 

His first knotted orgasm was like a shotgun blast, it seemed to start at the base of his spine and spread to his entire body. 

Wilson moaned, arching wantonly against the sheets as he reached completion. 

The beautiful, pale arch of his throat was like a beacon. Hamish lowered them easily to the bed, stretching out so he could bite and mark. 

House grasped him by the back of his hair and tugged, but the pain of that was nothing like the sudden intrusion into his backside. “Not just yet, Hal,” the man teased against his ear. 

“Shit,” Hal screamed, torn in two by the pleasure of his locked knot and the sudden breaching. “House what the fuck?”

“Exactly,” House purred and started to thrust. 

Wilson groaned beneath them, he had the weight of two grown men forcing Hamish deeper into him than he had ever felt. 

Hal wasn’t in heat, he was sure he could not have knotted if he was, but after the first few thrusts his body seemed to open up to House, and the sting from before was driven away with pleasure. Hal collapsed between them unable to do anything but let James have his way with his knot and House his ass. 

House should not have been able to knot with a partner not in heat, but Wilson’s pheromones so close allowed it. Hal could feel the member within him grow thicker and wider until the spot at the base began to tug at his rim. He feared that he would have the same trouble as last time, but his body was so relaxed the knot slid in as if the way was well oiled. 

Suddenly all three of them were connected, two knots and three bodies. House let out a vicious snarl and tugged Hal up by his hair once more. The doctor’s canines ravaged his neck biting deep into the right side where an alpha marked his omega. 

Wilson pushed his head forward and latched onto the left side of Hal’s neck, where omega marked alpha, elongated canines scaring deep. 

Hal blacked out. 

When he woke up, he was on his side. House was pressed against his back, licking leisurely at the scar he had left. Wilson was tucked against his front, a recreation of the night months ago. But this time Wilson was in heat and he squirmed against the sheets, attempting to find relief without waking the men behind him. 

“House,” Hal murmured nudging the man with his head. 

“Just waiting for you to join the party,” the man chuckled, lifting himself up so he could crawl over Hal. 

There was a moment of confused shifting, but soon House had slid into James. This time they were back to front, Wilson situated in House’s lap with his legs spread wide. 

The man was glorious, head thrown back, penis arched tightly against his belly. 

Hal licked his lips as he approached, unable to stop himself from sinking to his belly, lapping at the tantalizing member that bobbed with each thrust from House. 

“Oh,” Wilson cried, awed at being worshipped on both sides. 

When it became obvious that the knot would form soon, Hamish licked and nipped his way up the arched chest. 

House looked feral over James’s shoulder. His pupils were blown wide and his canines had grown to the point they peaked out from beneath his lips. He gave a roguish grin, as with on last grunt he battled his knot into place. He tore into James’s neck, latching onto the right side as if his life depended on it. 

At the same time, Hal bit, scaring his own mark across the left side. 

Wilson screamed between them, the force of his orgasm leaving semen all the way up to his collarbone. Hal licked it off with a hum of pleasure. 

They did not sleep then, instead, Hal brought a flannel from the loo and cleaned the blood off James’s neck. House, oddly caring, did the same for Hal. They took time cleaning each other, licking gently at the ravaged marks. 

Compared to Wilson and Hamish, House’s neck was unacceptably blank. 

When they had had enough time to recoup Hal splayed across the bed, lifting his hips to House in obvious invitation. 

“You are just full of surprises,” House smirked. This time he checked Hal. Probing gently at his loosened entrance and making sure he had not done any damage in his previous roughness. “Hmm,” he hummed, his mad scientist look over taking his face as he pulled out his fingers dripping with a mixture of semen and lubricant. “Quite adaptable aren’t you,” he teased. 

“House,” Hamish growled, wriggling his hips.

“Greg,” the older man commented before pulling Hal to him and sliding home in one slick move that Hal wasn’t sure he could accomplish even with practice. 

Hal could barely control himself, he keened wanton as House pounded into him, the force of his thrusts sliding him all the way to the headboard. He grasped at the slick wood and took it. The pain in his chest was almost gone; he could feel it dissipating, but not yet. He needed one more thing. 

When the knot started to form, House let out an actual yip of surprise. 

Hal opened his eyes, spotting James behind Greg with a cat that caught the canary grin. Hal burst out laughing, even as he was pierced to the quick, he could only imagine what James had done. 

When the two were connected again, House allowed himself to be marked. Hal bit deeply into the right, allowing James the left as they sandwiched House between them. 

****

Wilson’s heat ended surprisingly quickly. They slept curled around each other for a good ten hours, the heat faded and leaving them to rest. 

When Hal woke he was covered in fluids and dying for a cup of coffee and a shower. He maneuvered his way out of the pile and took a long hot soak in the shower down stairs. 

He was just sipping at his first cup when Greg joined him. 

The man was naked except for his plain grey pants. They hung loose on his hips and showed the numerous bruises James and Hal had left in their wake. His neck looked like he had been mauled by a pack of wolves, the marks bright red and scabbed in their newness. 

“Wearing t-shirts to work may be more fun than usual,” Greg smirked, indicating his neck. 

“I’m sure they won’t take long to fade, its not like they are real bond marks,” Hal shrugged. 

Greg scoffed, then burst into full on laughter, “ Of course they are real, can’t you feel it Rain man?”

Hal scowled at the return of the nickname. “You can’t bond between three people, there are plenty of alpha, beta, omega trios that have tried it.” 

“Well this would be true if you happened to be an alpha, beta, or omega, but you very much are not,” House said. 

Hal blinked, stunned. “That’s…”

“What?” Greg growled, “Not possible. Wilson’s heats last three days, always and without fail. There is only one reason they stopped early.”

“James is on birth control,” Hal snapped, he knew he was. He had seen the man taking them before. 

“He was. He told me after your heat that he was going off them and it was my choice whether to share the next heat with him or not.” 

Hal fell against his counter, stunned. “So he’s… with whom?”

Greg chuckled, grabbing up Hal’s coffee cup and taking a sip. “Blah,” he grimaced, and added two spoonfuls of sugar. “Its hard to tell, but probably yours. That many pheromones in the room at the same time, he was so fertile at first knot it wouldn’t have taken much,” the man added, like it was nothing. 

“That doesn’t bother you?” Hal couldn’t help but ask, though he could see it didn’t. 

“You asked us back here Hal, you shouldn’t be surprised.”

Hamish rubbed at his chest, at the place where the pain had been building ever sense his heat and now it was gone. He felt calm, whole. “Yeah, I guess so,” Hal smiled, and impulsively kissed House, pulling him tightly to him. The mark on his left sparked warmly. 

“Hey now,” Wilson called from the stairs, but he had an indulgent look on his face. The man was practically glowing, but not in the ‘I’m pregnant’ way, more like the ‘I finally got what I wanted and am so happy’ way. 

“Hey to you too,” Hal greeted, releasing Greg. 

James came into the kitchen, pressing a chaste kiss to Greg and Hal. 

They had coffee together while House dug through the cupboards in search of cereal. He griped about the raisin brand he found and grumbled good-naturedly when Hamish sliced a few strawberries into it for him. It was all strangely domestic. 

In the end, however, House and Wilson had to return to their own flat for clothes and a chance to unwind. 

James dawdled at the door, torn with indecision. “Why don’t you come over for dinner, sevenish?” he offered. 

Hal looked at his watch, nine hours til. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.” The time would give him a chance to try and wrap his head around the magnitude of what had happened in the last two days. 

He sat at his kitchen table, sipping at his second cup of coffee and trying not to dwell on much of anything when the doorbell rang. 

“Its only been ten minutes,” he chuckled, “Did you forget someth…” He trailed off as he opened the door. 

Ethan Winter was shivering on his stoop. The boys trousers were even more tattered than before, he was missing one shoe, and there was dried blood splatter on his face. 

“Christ, come in, come in,” Hal herded him into a chair at his kitchen table. “What happened, Ethan?”

The boy looked shell shocked, but he focused on Hamish and started talking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go. I just. I had your card and I looked you up in the directory. “

“What happened, Ethan,” Hal coaxed. 

“I was sleeping next to...um my alpha and when I woke up in the morning he was dead, stabbed. They blamed me for it, said they were going to call the cops. I snuck out and came here. I didn’t do it, I swear Dr. Watson-Holmes.” Ethan was shaking; eyes wide with fear and desperation. 

“Hey now,” Hamish hushed him knelling down so he could look him in the eye. “Normally asking you doctor for help in a murder investigation wouldn’t really help, but you’ve come to the right place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even sure with this chapter came from, but um here. Does anyone have any recommendations for Ethan's murdered alpha?


	6. Part Six

Part Six

They took a cab to the crime scene. Hamish listened quietly as Ethan explained the situation. 

“I went back to Joey, that’s my alpha, after the hospital. I didn’t tell him that you gave me the pill, I swear, but I did tell him I wasn’t pregnant anymore. He said it was fine, he wasn’t even mad. He said he was sorry for taking advantage. For taking advantage!” Ethan exclaimed, tears beading in his eyes. “He could have been a good alpha, I don’t know what is going to happen now.” 

“Hey, give me a chance to look at the scene, Ethan. We’ll get this sorted out,” Hamish reassured him. 

Hamish marched his way onto the scene with a collection of skills he learned from his parents. He kept his head high, hands closed tight at his side like he was marching into battle, with his gait swift like he needed to get somewhere quickly.  
Ethan followed closely at his side, and when a police officer tried to stop them, Hal snapped at the man. “I am here to assist my client with this ridiculous farce of an investigation, I suggest you let me through.” Hamish let his vowels roll out like caramel, sounding like the world’s poshest British snob. He did not wait for the officer to allow them entry. He raised the caution tape for Ethan, and marched them through. 

The officer didn’t know what hit him. 

The house was a beautiful New England affair, all white columns and light colors. It was no mansion, but certainly spoke of familial wealth. The inside of the house was a contrast to the outside. The floors were all hardwood, complement by large furniture pieces done in dark cherry and mahogany. There was a faint whiff of cigarette smoke, but it was faded enough to hint the occupant had been abstaining. 

There were more cops in the master bedroom, most standing around the body in the massive bed. The bed was king sized, with rich green blankets highlighted in greys and blacks. The angry detective standing beside him obscured the victim. The man was older, with light grey hair and look slightly like Uncle Greg, but with jowls. 

“Ah Detective,” Hamish held his hand out, giving a wry sort of smile like he had met the detective may times and they were used to this sort of oddity. 

The man scowled, “Who let you in here?”

Hal did not let his smile falter. “My client thought it best to reach me immediately once he realized what happened.” 

The detective glanced at his ‘client’. “Yes, Ethan Winter is wanted for murder, I imagine hunting down his lawyer would be his first response.” 

“Well that would be true if I was a lawyer or if Ethan had killed this man, neither of which is true. I am a consulting detective and I need to see the body.” He stepped easily around the man to get a better look at the body on the bed. 

Joey Arnello, 30 years old at time of death, had been a handsome man. He had gone to bed shirtless, but was wearing pants. His body was laid out flat on the back; he had not been curled around Ethan in his sleep. In fact the disturbance of the blankets suggested they slept with some room between them. His neck was marked on the left with a much too small bite, the result of adult canines not yet grown to full length. 

His body bore no signs of love marks or scratches; he had not attempted to sleep with Ethan since the accidental mating. The cause of death seemed rather obvious. Hal leaned in to get better look at the weapon. There was a curved knife stabbed straight through his sternum where it would have punctured his heart. He had to crane his neck to get a proper look at the brand of the knife. The writing made him smirk. 

He straightened, turning to the enraged detective with a grin. “Right well, I can see I am extraneous, you must have cleared my client the moment you saw the cause of death.” 

The detective blinked stupidly. “What, no! Of course he did it. He was the only one here at the time.” 

“Detective, Detective,” Hal tutted, “Look at this knife.” He gestured to the weapon like a game show host. “ This knife was stabbed directly through the sternum and into the heart in a single smooth motion. My client has neither the strength nor the skill to make that sort of wound in one go. And look at the weapon itself, which is not from this house. That curved handle with the flexible blade, the brand; this knife is a Dexter brand boning knife found exclusively in restaurant supply stores. The only sort of person that would own a knife like this, and know it was the best choice for piercing bone, would be someone in the industry. Does my client strike you as that sort of person?”

The detective looked at the skinny fourteen year old in the tattered jeans two sizes too big, and grunt. “No, no he does not.” 

“I would like to speak to the family, one of the brothers is here, it is certainly not Mr. Joey Arnello’s car parked outside the tape,” Hamish spoke calmly, but with authority, a trick his papa often used. 

“Who are you?” the detective snarled. 

“Ah, forgive me,” Hal smiled, his voice patronizing, “ Dr. Hamish Watson-Holmes.” 

This time the man shook his hand, “Detective Michael Tritter. The brother is downstairs. We won’t be arresting Mr. Winter until we can confirm your case, but I suggest you keep him in the county.”

“Yes, of course,” Hal gave an incline of his head and marched Ethan out of the room. 

The brother was older by about two years, and despite looking fit to punch every police officer in the room, he was clearly broken up about his brother’s murder. 

“Mr. Arnello,” Hamish greeted, “I’m working with Mr. Winter to help track down who ever did this to your brother.” 

The man stood, tall enough to look down at Hal. He was a class B alpha but his anger radiated off of him made him read like a class A. “Well at least someone here has a brain between their ears, these idiots have been claiming that little toothpick of an omega killed my brother.” 

“Yes, I noticed. That’s been cleared up. Perhaps we could discuss this outside of the house, Mr. Arnello.” 

The man glanced at the officers and gave a sharp nod,” It’s Bill, and yeah, I need to get outta here.” 

They walked three blocks before Hal broke the silence. “What did your brother do for the mob?”

Bill turned on him reaching out to grab his neck, but sprung back before even touching him. “Who told you that?” he snarled, looking furious, but tempered by confusion. 

Hal smirked at him, feeling the warmth from his reacting bond marks. A class B alpha was going to have a hard time laying hands on Hal marked by both a class A alpha and omega. “No one told me, relax. I could see the mob money in the amount of cops at the house and the amount of money Joey had for a man that didn’t appear to do much of anything, and can smell mob on you a mile away.” Hal looked pointedly at the expensive watch and tailored suit. 

“You said you were a detective, not like one I’ve ever met,” Bill sneered.

Hal quirked a brow,” I’m a consulting detective, only one in the U.S. Now are you going to answer the question?” 

“My brother kept the books; always had an eye for numbers.”

“And with you being the head of the mob it must have been a cushy job, was Ethan a gift then? A reward for years served?” 

Ethan was walking behind them, and made a squeak at Hamish’s cold terminology. 

Bill glanced at the boy, “ No, I thought it was time Joey settled down, started a family.” 

“And yet you, Mr. Arnello, are two years older and no omega of your own. Why is that?” Hal pressed. 

“Its dangerous for me to start a family, I can’t have some wilting flower hanging about.” 

Hal scoffed, “If you would stop buying up omega’s fresh out of puberty, you might realize that omegas are much more than inconvenient brood mares.” 

“Like you, you mean,” Bill smirked. He pulled back on Hal’s jumper, careful not to touch the skin as he revealed House’s still red mark. 

Hamish stepped away cleanly, careful to not appear flustered. “Well, I’m a certain sort of unique, but yes. Now, will we end this byplay and you tell me who might be threatening your brother or will you continue to posture?” 

“There are not many that knew about my brother. We always dealt with the books away from the… business. “

“How many other siblings do you have?” Hal knew there were more, but could not pinpoint the exact number. 

“Five, but they didn’t have anything to do with this. Only my other brother Brian has anything to do with the business and he handles the docks. My sisters are younger and have legit jobs,” Bill scowls protective. 

“I need to do some research, we’ll be in touch.” Hal placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder and started to lead him back towards the house. 

“By the contract, the boy is now my omega,” Bill commented, but did not seem overly proprietary. 

“Ethan will be staying with me until this is over,” Hal said, blasé, and continued to lead the young omega away. 

The taxi ride back to the flat was uncomfortable. 

“I thought you were an Alpha,” Ethan remarked, looking at Hamish with awe and confusion.

“It’s complicated,” was all he could say. 

****

Researching the Arnello family was actually more difficult then Hal expected, and he found himself hacking into the police records to find some of the more ‘official’ information. 

Bill’s information had been surprisingly truthful. The police records showed watches on Bill, Joey, and Brian with no signs of illegal activity with the sisters. Though Hal knew better than to trust police information. 

Neither Joey nor Brian had any connection to the restaurant industry or any reason to be in possession of a boning knife. 

He was still clicking away at the computer when Ethan came in. “I don’t want to mate Bill.” 

The boy was dressed in one of Hals old t-shirts; it was too big and slipped easily down his shoulder to reveal the large bite on his right shoulder. With the loss of his mate the mark was starting to fade, it would be nothing more than a pale scar in a few days and then a new bonding heat would start. According to tradition, Ethan should go to Bill so the transition to mates would be easy. Bonds between alpha and omega didn’t always take, but familial bonds tended to breed true. 

“Ethan you aren’t bound by law, you can say no.”

The young man shook his head. “I can’t, my parents need the money from the bonding. Another alpha won’t pay a dowry for me after this. “

“A dowry? You sound like a virgin sacrifice.”

Ethan snorted, “I sort of was.” 

Hal winced at the reminder. “What do your parents need the money for so much anyways?”

Ethan scowled, biting his lip in embarrassment. “My little brother and sister.”

Hal blinked in astonishment,” Younger twin siblings, how did I miss it. Of course, omegas right?” 

“Yes, they, they deserve to go to school and make their own choices. The money will be enough for them go to college, to get good jobs. You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Oh, I understand better than you know. If anyone dared lay a hand on my little brother I would rip their throats out with my teeth. I’m just surprised your beta parents managed three omegas. Genetically, it’s not impossible, but certainly very unlikely. Hmm.” Hamish scratched his chin and started googling.

Ethan, realizing he’d lost the doctor again, went out to the front room to watch some T.V. The doctor had left it on BBC, so he spent awhile watching a hilarious show about some British guys testing cars.  
At close to eight at night, Hamish came out of his room looking feverish with excitement. “I need to make a call, but this should be settled soon” he grinned and pulled out his cellphone. 

Hamish called House because he did not actually have Wilson’s number. He was surprised the man answered after the first ring. 

“You have a change of heart Rain man? Wilson’s been flitting around all day with your marks burning every so often,” House sounded geniuely pissed. 

Hal winced, he’d forgotten about dinner. “Something interesting came up, I just lost track of time. I need your help with something.”

“Oh,” House somehow made that sound rather sarcastic. 

“Yeah, want to help me break into a warehouse tonight.” 

“Yeah, alright,” House sounded bored, but Hal knew he was grinning. 

“See you in ten,” Hal grinned, hanging up. 

In about five minutes there was a knock on the door. Hal wasn’t surprised to see House and Wilson, but he was astonished to see how worried Wilson looked. 

“Oh,” Hal blinked, “I’m sorry James.” He pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and offered the same to House. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“I really shouldn’t be surprised, you and House are a lot a like. Always running off when something interesting comes your way,” Wilson gave a wry shrug. 

“Um this is Ethan,” Hamish waved at his momentary houseguest. “Ethan this is my Alpha Greg and my Omega James.” At Ethan’s astonished look, he just shrugged. “Told you it was complicated.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so awesome, thanks for all the reviews and suggestions. Some of them I am taking into consideration and others I have plans for later. Glad you guys like where this ridiculous story is going.
> 
> Also there is infact a Dexter knife brand, I actually own this exact boning knife. Dexter brand is super cheap and has a tendency to loose its sharpness after a week or two of constant use, but cane be sharped to a point better than some of the most expensive knives. I know a few competition chefs that use Dexter's for a few hours at an unimaginably sharp level, instead of using their more expensive knives that work better keeping sharp over time.


	7. Chapter 7

Part Seven

Hamish made Ethan stay at the flat, but knew better than to ask Wilson to stay behind. Despite his level-headedness, Wilson had his own passion for danger. 

They went to the warehouse district along the docks, parking a few blocks down from the Arnello warehouse. It might be the most ridiculous thing Hal had ever attempted; breaking into a mob warehouse with a cripple and a possibly pregnant oncologist. 

There was a night guard at the gate, so Hamish led them around the back of the building and a dark place in the fence where he could cut through the chain link. It was an effort to cut the links with his small wire cutters, but they were much easier to conceal than the massive bolt cutters that would be better for the job. 

He cut a small rectangle at the bottom of the fence that they all squeezed through. The warehouse had a backdoor that was padlocked, with a grin, Hal handed his picking tools to House. 

“You are full of surprises,” House whispered, going to work on the lock. He was out of practice, but he had a surgeon’s touch. The lock clicked open in moments. Wilson graced them both with a frown, but his eyes were alight with excitement. 

Hal led them carefully through the building. Half of the structure had been transformed into small offices that dealt with the import/export side of the business. The rest of the place was covered in pallets, crates, and tricons. Most of the business was actually legit, the pallets filled with boring supplies, but at the back of the building with the tricons, Hal found what he was looking for. 

The massive metal rectangles were mostly used for storage of the more expensive products. There were locks on each one, but one lock was still bright with newness and was a different style than the others. Obvious. 

Hal picked this lock, going about the complicated structure in moments. Inside was what he had been suspecting for hours. The tricon had been transformed into a medical office. The back corner contained a medical table like those used by gynecologists. There were tables against the right, holding an expensive microscope and other pricy medical instruments. The left side had a refrigerator and a freezer. Hal pulled on some gloves and looked into the freezer, the readout showed -20 degrees. He took pictures with his phone of the contents and a then went about photographing each damning piece of evidence. 

House gave a low whistle. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

“I took a case from one of my patients at the clinic,” Hal remarked, getting a close up of the microscope. “His mate was murdered today and I told him I would solve the case, looks like I have.” 

Hal sent off a text to Detective Ritter, accompanied with the photos of the lab and directions to the warehouse. He used an anonymous number, routing through some of Uncle Mycroft’s untraceable lines. 

“Come on, time to go.” They left the warehouse without difficulty, easily avoiding the single guard. 

Hal waited until they were back at the flat to explain his findings. “Earlier tonight, Ethan explained that he had two younger siblings, both omegas. His parents are betas, and while they can produce an omega, producing three is as statistically unlikely as finding another hermaphrodite like myself. I did some research into the Arnello family and found something very interesting about our dear brother Brian.”

“Brian killed Joey,” Ethan gasped, eyes wide. 

“Let me finish,” Hal griped. “ Brian actually did some schooling in medicine before being given his job in the mob controlling shipments. He had to drop his classes, but not before making friends with a young medical student who would eventually become Dr. Julie Moreno. Moreno lost her license ten years ago for unlawful genetic testing on fetuses. She proposed to the government that she could alter the embryo before birth to a desired secondary gender.” 

“That’s a difficult procedure, a few middle eastern countries have tried it before,” Wilson remarked. 

Hal nodded. “Yes, Moreno found the same problems, her embryo’s either aborted or came out wrong, but Brian was desperate to work his way up in the Mob and devised a plan. He knew that Omega black markets never really work, but producing omega in poor beta parents, and contracting those children to rich families could bring in a large profit.”

Ethan looked sick, “So I’m…”

“No,” Hal shook his head, “ but you did bring Brian’s attention to your parents. They have the recessive markers that allowed them to produce an omega, making them good candidates for the experiment. I imagine your mother was desperate for more children and thought the experiment would be worth it. Moreno took eggs from her and sperm from your father and used them to genetically alter the zygotes for the omega gene. Then implanted them in your mother. There have been thirty omegas born to betas in the last two years in this city alone, while some of them were natural, some of them had to be manufactured. “

“So my brother and sister were made omegas on purpose, but they are perfectly healthy!” Ethan looked confused. 

“Moreno had plenty of time to practice the technique and your siblings were lucky. What was unlucky, was you being contracted to Joey. Joey had a head for numbers and realized how unlikely your siblings were. When he looked into their finances I imagine he found some money from the mob pocketing their account just after your mother got pregnant. With his brother’s medical background, he put two and two together. “

“What about the knife then, you said it was someone with chef experience,” Ethan asked. 

Hal chuckled; he had been embarrassed when he had realized that one. “While Brian has no experience with the field his girlfriend is a chef at a local restaurant. He took the knife from her. “

“What made you suspect that warehouse, the Arnello family must have at least a dozen?” Wilson asked. 

“Oh, that is the only warehouse with refrigeration capabilities, and the only one to store medical supplies. It was simply the most logical choice.” Hal responded with a pleased grin. 

House huffed in amusement, but before he could remark on Hal’s smugness, his brow furrowed in pain. He rubbed at his leg, the muscles twitching. 

“You alright?” Wilson asked, worried. 

“Fine,” House snarled, irate at the sudden onset of pain. His nerves sent inflamed signals to his brain constantly, but it wasn’t often he felt such agony. 

Hal could feel the spark along the mark on his neck. “House, something’s wrong.” He had yet to feel the daily agitation of House’s leg. 

“I’m fine” House growled, but suddenly, face contorted; he fell to the ground screaming. 

Hal gasped, feeling the sharp, pulsing sting along his neck. “Greg!” he and Wilson shouted, going to the man’s side. 

Wilson checked his pulse. “Tachycardia,” he remarked. 

Hal nodded and checked the injured leg. He could feel the rapid twitching of the muscle spasmming, but would not be able to tell if it was more of the muscle dying off without an ultrasound. “Start the car, I’ll bring him out,” Hal ordered, lifting House into his arms. “Hush Greg, we’re getting you to the hospital, but your just going to hurt yourself if you keep thrashing.” 

Wilson gave a curt nod, and shot out the door. 

Ethan looked petrified, eyes wide. “Should I… um do something?”

Hal shook his head, hefting Greg further into his arms. “No, stay here and lock the doors.” Greg groaned, curling up in pain, barely aware that he was allowing some pup to hoist him about like a damsel in distress. Hal hurried out to the car, careful not to jostle his mate as he placed him in the back seat. 

Wilson drove like a madman, they were at the ER entrance of Plainsboro in moments. Not willing to wait for a wheelchair, Hal gathered House into his arms once more, and carried him into the ER. 

Of course, the nurses recognized them immediately. Triage order was forgotten in the sight of three of their own. House was rushed back into observation. Dr. Foreman and Chase where already there, having been alerted by Wilson on the drive over. 

Because Wilson knew House would be pissed if they cut up his best pair of jeans, he and Hal helped pull them off the man. The indented scar on his leg looked red and inflamed. There was an actually obvious pulse beneath the scarred skin. 

Foreman ran the ultra sound, searching the leg for any signs of dying tissue. What he found made him gasp. With his free hand Dr. Foreman pulled back the neck of House’s shirt, revealing the scarred mate marks. He turned to Chase, eyes narrowed, “Get Dr. Hart.” 

“What’s going on,” Hal growled, he hadn’t been able to see the ultrasound screen, and he had no idea who Dr. Hart was. 

Wilson looked equally worried. “Eric, what is it?”

“Sorry James, Hamish. I think you both need to step outside for a bit. We’ll get this sorted out. House will be okay.” 

Hal was moments from attacking the man. “Tell us what’s wrong, he’s our mate!” 

“I know,” Foreman gave him a flat stare, “Go outside, Dr. Watson-Holmes.” 

“Come on, “ Wilson called softly, pulling on Hal’s arm. “We really shouldn’t be in here.” 

Hal followed, soothed by his omega’s gentle scent. “Who is Dr. Hart,” he asked, once they had been seated outside. 

Wilson ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “He’s the bond specialist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been busy with school and playing around with chapters from other stories. I also started a short dark materials/Sherlock story which I really shouldn't have, but I even have pictures and things drawn for it and its about 10 pages long now. Anyone interested in beta`ing? 
> 
> Anyways, here is the answer to the murder and what could possibly be wrong with Dr. House?


	8. Part Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovely ILoveBeingMe has been helping by looking over my work for me. Anything that came out wrong is entirely my fault.
> 
> Hope you Enjoy.

Part Eight

Dr. Hart was a young man, just shy of thirty-two, he was clean shaven and had one of those round faces that made him look even younger. He smile was ironic, like he was perfectly aware how absurd his name was for his profession.

Hal watched the man, took in his clean wedding band(happily married, ten years), his clean lab coat(mostly office job), and the clipboard clenched in his hands(confusion?).

“What is wrong with Greg?” James snapped, focusing Dr. Hart’s attention.

The doctor took a seat before them. “I have to ask some questions before I can verify my diagnosis. Can you tell me when you mated?”

James tugged at his collar, the marks still fresh. “Its been a little over twenty-four hours, there was maybe an hour between the bonding with all three of us.”

“Is the bond breaking,” Hal asked, worried that he had caused this. The marks on his neck were warm to the touch, but were not infected. There was no sign of an incompatible bond, but this was not territory that Hal specialized in. 

Dr. Hart could not seem to help peering at the bonds on both of their necks, he seemed fascinated by the scarred tissue. “No, the bond is strong and growing stronger. Tell me, have you ever heard of an emotional bond?”

James looked unsure, but Hal nodded. “My parents are emotionally bonded. They were separated for some time before they could cement a complete bond.”

“Oh!” Dr. Hart exclaimed, looking pleased. “It’s a rare occurrence. Most of the population are not even capable of forming an emotional bond. Most of my research is in forming bonds between Beta couples that are trying to conceive, the bond can increase fertility by 30%, but my initial studies were in emotional bonds.”

“I’m aware Doctor, but perhaps you could get back to why our Alpha is in the hospital,” James offered, expression fierce.

“Yes, of course,” Dr. Hart murmured, chastised. “I was aware of your emotional bond to Dr. House a few years ago. Its always been a skill of mine to scent them. There was always something wrong with it, the edges were jagged, unfinished. I have not scented many emotional bonds in person, so I assumed the issue was due to it being incomplete. I did not realized what was wrong until today.”

“Dr. Hart, please,” James prompted.

“Ah, well. It appears that the jagged edges were because it was unfinished, but it was not due to the unconsummated bond. It was due to the incomplete emotional bond. A piece was missing. Dr. Watson-Holmes was missing.”

“What?” Hal gasped pressing his fingers to his mark like he could gather the answer there.

“I know, it was unexpected. I wasn’t even aware such a thing could happen, but if emotional bonds are rare. You Dr. Watson-Holmes, are one of a kind.”

James blinked slowly, taking in the information. “Then what is wrong with House?”

“Nothing,” Dr. Hart shrugged. “Emotional bonds are formed between couples that are compatible in every way, it is nature’s way of ensuring the production of the strongest offspring. The exchange of saliva and blood during the bond bite, results in a sudden and very powerful boost in stem cells. The cells hunt down imperfections in the mates and repairs them. There has not been a great deal of research in the matter due not only to the rarity of the bond, but also due to the fact that most of those affected are not so heavily injured as to be noticeable.”

Hal remembered when his parents had finally completed their bond. He had to go to Uncle Mycroft’s house for the day, while his dad went through his first heat in almost a decade. Afterwards, his Papa had remarked on how limber his injured shoulder was feeling. Papa had shown him the network of tissue that had almost meant his death, but instead had brought him home to them. The scar had grown less fibrous and the muscles had gained strength, but it was never mentioned. Hal had been too young to realize what was right in front of his eyes.

“House is...healing?” Hal clarified.

Dr. Hart nodded, “Yes. The muscle damage is being repaired to his leg, but the stem cells only have a short lifespan, they had to do their work quickly. With two boost of the usual amount the repair work caused him a great deal of pain. New neurons were being connected sending singles that his mind could only translate as pain. He’ll be fine in another hour or so.”

“Will he be able to walk, without the cane?” James asked, stunned.

“I don’t know. The repair work is delicate, and his body knows how it should be, but this is an area that no one has experience with,” Dr. Hart held out his clipboard. “I want to monitor the bond, makes sure it is all right. At the moment the bond is strong, like an iron band between three of you, but I want to make sure it does not become strained. The breaking of that kind of bond could be devastating.”

“I’ll keep you updated,” James took the questionnaire that was on the board, but made no move to answer it.

“Right, well, I’ll see you later,” Dr Hart gave a nervous smile and then left them alone.

 

Hal slumped against Wilson, pressing his nose against his pulse point. The scent was soothing, an odd compilation of the three of them. “He’ll be okay.”

Wilson put his arm around the younger man and tugged him close. “You were worried it was your fault.”

“Of course I was, nothing about this situation is normal,” Hal huffed.

“I thought the unusual was your speciality.”

“Its is,” Hal murmured, feeling his lips twitch unbidden to a smile.

“Relax, love, House is a stubborn old goat,” Wilson grinned down at him.

Hal burst out laughing.

***

House woke to confusion. The room smelled like bleach and cheap bed sheets, a scent that House hated even if he practically lived in it. He was in a hospital bed, there was no mistaking the thin mattress and the scratchy blankets.

His pants and shirt were gone, but his boxers were in place. He wasn’t stuck in one of those horrible gowns, which meant whatever happened to him had happened quickly. It had also been serious enough that the kids hadn’t tried to prank him by shoving him into a gown.

His leg was sore, but his heart wasn’t pounding. His head was fine. There was no sign of this being the result of drugs or alcohol. At least he hoped not, Wilson would kill him.

_Wilson!_

His brain stuttered back into action and he remembered the last few hours. Remembered the absolutely insane heat that resulted in him becoming Alpha to two of the most beautiful Omegas he had ever seen. He remembered Hal, that ridiculous boy, getting them to break into a warehouse and the explanation of the genetic engineering scheme that seem like something out of a comic book. Then nothing; darkness and pain.

Had he been shot? Knocked out?

No. His head was fine and the soreness in his leg was nothing like being shot. He ran his fingers along his hip, feeling for the divot that had been formed during the surgery that had saved(destroyed) his life. It wasn’t there! He could feel a scar beneath his fingers, but the divot wasn’t there. His leg felt whole.

“House,” Wilson called, then the man was there; hovering over him with those sad puppy-eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Not nearly as badly as I’m used too when I wake up in a hospital bed,” he joked, struggling to sit up. Wilson and Hal helped him up, the younger man suddenly appearing at his other shoulder as if summoned.

House wasted no time in flinging back the covers to get a look at his leg. Years ago he had a portion of the muscle on his upper thigh removed. It had left a nasty scar and a dip in the once smooth area. The scar was still there, but it was just a slim line paler than the surrounding area. The knotted tissue that had developed along the line was gone. Beneath his questing fingers, House could feel nothing but healthy tissue. The area was sore, but only in the way muscles were sore after a particularly good workout, nothing like the constant, sharp pain of damaged neurons he was accustomed too.

“What happened?” he asked, never looking up from his leg.

Wilson explained about him passing out at Hal’s apartment, and that Foreman brought in Dr. Hart. Greg knew about the man in passing, but had tried to avoid him ever since his emotional bond to James developed. He was shocked to learn the bond had expanded to encompass Hal, that an exchange of stem cells in saliva and blood had fixed the unfixable.

“They have you on a glucose drip, apparently the process used up a large amount of your energy stores. That’s why you feel so weak,” Hal commented, after the story was told.

House looked over at the series of monitors he had attached to him. They were monitoring heart rate and blood pressure, and someone - probably Chase - had hooked an IV into his left hand. “James,” House murmured, needing to be alone to wrap his mind around all of this.

Wilson, because he had known House for over two decades, nodded in understanding. “Hal and I will head home, you should get some rest.”

Hal stared at House for a moment, that narrowed-eyed gaze he’d inherited from his dad. “It’s a good thing, the leg. Don’t dwell on it,” he ordered,before turning and following after James. House chuckled as they left, Hal was well suited to them; gentle in a way Greg couldn’t be, fierce in a way James wasn’t, and perceptive enough to know which is needed.

Unusually tired, Greg tugged the monitor off his finger and ripped out the leads stuck to his chest. The monitor cried in protest, but House flicked the power switch off before it could summon a nurse. He pulled out the IV and the tape, irritated by the way in made his hand itch. The needle now dripped sluggishly to the flour, but he ignored it in favor of throwing the blankets over his head and going back to sleep.

He woke up hours later with Cuddy sitting to his right. She appeared to be eating his jello cup. “You always yell at me for that,” he pouted, sitting up. He felt better, his limbs not as shaky.

“Best way to get my point across,” she grinned, licking the last off the spoon. “I’ve been hearing an interesting rumor,” She remarked, brow raised.

“You should no better than to listen to hospital rumors. Nurses are the worst gossipers,” he grinned.

“Oh,” Cuddy drawled, “so you didn’t bond with our head of Oncology and a twenty-three year old intern.”

“Well, I suppose every rumor has a kernel of truth,” he shrugged. There was a food tray next to his bed, Greg reach out and grabbed a roll. He tore a bite out of it, spreading crumbs over the blanket.

“House,” Cuddy sighed, exasperated. “How do you even get yourself into these situations? Bonding with Dr. Wilson is one thing, the whole hospital has been betting on it for years, but Dr. Watson-Holmes is a student.”

“I do believe there are laws protecting me against just that. How unusual, I actually have to law on my side this time,” House grinned.

Cuddy rubbed at her temples, trying to chase off the inevitable headache. “Oh House,” she sighed. “I _am_ happy for you. Dr. Hart explained the situation, but this will cause trouble, for all of you.”

House rarely spoke with any seriousness to Cuddy. She was an excellent barrier against backlash. This time, however, he leans forward, looking her in the eye. “Are you threatening Hal’s Medical License?”

“No!” she exclaimed, “Absolutely not. I may not quite understand how this all came about, but I know neither you nor he would do anything to jeopardize his career. That being said, this isn’t a mark that can be easily removed with some well-placed paperwork.”

House gave a stiff nod, “I’ll keep an eye out.” He may not know nearly as much about his new mate as he should, but House personally understood the importance of medicine to Hal.

“Thank you, and for God’s sake be discrete.”

“Well, that may be hard in a few months,” House chuckled, relaxing back to his usual nonchalance.

Cuddy’s eyes widened in surprise, “Is he…?”

“James actually, and it’s not confirmed yet,” House remarked.

Cuddy seemed to resist the urge to smack him. “I don’t even want to know. Just,” she gestured vaguely, “be careful.”

“Aren’t I always?” he grinned.

Cuddy snorted as she approached the door. She paused, hand on the handle, and turned to him, “And House, they gave you some pain meds when you were admitted, but they’ll wear off soon.”

House tightened his hands to fists. If his leg was really fine, if the pain was gone; he would no longer have an excuse to take Vicodin. His crutch, real and imaginary, would be gone. “I may need a few days off.”

Cuddy nodded, “Take all the time you need.” Then she left, closing the door behind her.

He had a few moments to devour his tray of luke-warm food, before James and Hamish were back. Hal was now dressed in some of James’ clothes, so they had gone back to House’s place to rest.

“Feeling better?” James asked, looking over the empty tray.

“Much, lets try out this new leg, shall we?” House flung off the bed covers, and shifted his legs off the side of the bed. He chuckled when he realized someone had placed bright yellow socks on his feet. They were the fall risk socks drunks usually got in the ER.

James was at his side in an instant, but Hal stayed back, observing with interest.

House shook off James’ steadying hand as he stood. Putting his full weight on his leg took more mental effort than House was expecting, but with a deep breath he gave it a try. His quads tensed, his whole leg preparing for pain, but none came. With a stutter he took a step forward, then another and another. With each movement he relaxed, felt the smooth muscles of his thigh shift comfortably into place.

He looked up, James and Hamish were watching him with cautious enthusiasm. He stared at the two men that allowed themselves to bond and be bound to an old, cranky doctor with a gimp leg. For the first time in over a decade, he let a real, honest smile cross his features.


	9. Chapter 9

Part Nine

_Four Months Later…_

Hal woke with a start, when the entire weight of one Gregory House landed on his back. “Omf,” he grunted.

“Come on lazy bones, get up,” Greg called, even as he buried his nose into the base of Hal’s neck. 

Hal, who had spent the last 24 grueling hours working emergency surgery in the O.R., groaned in exhaustion. “Go away, House!”

“You have to get up eventually, you do have to work today,” Greg said.

Hal spun around, shifting under his body. “Hmm, eventually is the key word in that sentence.” 

Rolling his eyes, House captured Hal’s lips in a languid kiss. He pulled back after a moment, face twisted, “Eh, morning breath.”

“Yes,” Hal chuckled, “That’s what happens when you rudely wake someone up.” 

“Come on then, we’ve got an hour,” House said, jumping up and heading out the bedroom door. 

Hal took a moment to admire his smooth gait, the way his hips shifted effortlessly with each step. Four months ago, House had found that though his leg was healed, his mind was still convinced he had a limp. It had taken physical therapy alongside a grueling detox that had left all three of them with the shakes. 

Hal and Wilson had spent the first month watching House like hawks, and removing every pain killer they could find from both flats. Every pharmacist in a 40 mile radius had been ordered not to give House medication whether he had a prescription or not. At the end of 30 days even Hal was ready to start popping vicodin, but now, four months in, the urge was properly suppressed. House was no longer sending anger and craving down their shared links, which was a blessing. 

Knowing House wouldn’t wait long, Hal gave a stretch and hopped out of bed. He pulled on a pair of basketball shorts and an old t-shirt before heading down stairs. House was outside, already stretched and vibrating with barely suppressed energy. 

They took off at a comfortable trot, warming up. House always led, following whatever path he wished that would take them to his apartment. Depending on his mood that could be anywhere from 3 to 5 miles. 

“When is your lease up, again?” House asked. 

“I told you, two more months,” Hal panted. House had been asking about his lease for awhile now. “I can’t move into your flat, you and Wilson share a bed now, but that still leaves a one bedroom flat for 3+ people. We’d murder each other.” 

“What if we moved?” House asked. He was still looking straight ahead, like he was hardly paying attention, which meant that what he was saying was extremely important. 

“It would have to be at least three bedrooms. One for us, one for when one of us can’t stand the other two, and one for the baby,” Hal commented, picking up his pace so he could better watch Greg’s expression.

“So a house then,” Greg winced, he wasn’t the suburbia type. 

“Preferably with a king sized bed,” Hal grinned. Wilson cuddled, Greg sprawled, and Hal could admit he stole the covers. Between the three of them, sleeping in the same bed was like staging a Napoleonic war. 

House went silent after that, picking up the pace to a near sprint as he pondered over the situation. House was very much like Sherlock in that way, the hard decisions, the ones he didn’t want to make, were always well thought out and considered, but he always tried to hide that fact. 

They took the long route, twisting along different paths until they were both left sweating and wheezing in front of House’s flat. 

“I’ve got first shower,” Greg said, letting them into the flat. 

Hal waved him off. “Go right ahead, I’m just going to melt into a puddle on your kitchen floor.” 

Greg grinned, “Getting old?”

“Not as old as you,” Hal quipped. He gulped down a glass of water while Greg headed off to his shower. With his water finished, he wandered into the bedroom. 

Wilson was fully dressed for the day, but was perched on the bed reading through another pregnancy book. “Hey,” Hal greeted, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Wilson’s lips then his rounded belly. 

“Hey,” Wilson smiled, then his face twisted, “Eh you stink, love.” 

“No one is happy to see me today,” Hal whined, playfully. He slipped out of shirt and shorts, left only in his boxers, before snuggling into Wilson. He rested his head against his side, careful of his belly, but close enough to press his nose against it. Wilson smelled like comfort and milk, with an underlying marker of Hal and House. Hal always thought he would would dislike Greg’s scent along with his own on James skin, but it was actually nice, like a promise of protection. 

Wilson carded his hand through Hal’s hair, mussing the wet curls at the base of his neck. “Its getting long,” he commented.

“Hmm,” Hal hummed in agreement, “I haven’t had a chance to get it cut. Too busy.” He had to keep his hair almost military short, partially because of hospital policy, but also because he had inherited his dad’s curls and his hair went absolutely ridiculous after a certain length. 

“Though he would never admit it, House is worried about you,” Wilson comments out of no where.

“What! Why?” Hal asks, trying to look at Wilson without actually moving. 

“He - _we_ \- don’t want you feeling like a third-wheel,” Wilson says, continuing to card his fingers through Hal’s hair. 

The first month after the bond, none of them were much interested in anything sexual. House’s withdrawal had sparked along the bonds, inflaming the senses until they spent whole days curled around each other in bed. It got so bad that they could scarcely handle being in a different room from each other. 

With time, however, the withdrawal faded and so did the intense need for closeness. Hal had returned to his flat, needing a bit of space. He still spent nights at House’s flat and had been sexually active with both of them. House had a bit of exibitionist habit, which Hal wouldn’t have indulged, but it often involved breaking into locked rooms in the hospital. Hal had a weakness for breaking and entering that Wilson pretended not to know about and House gleefully exploited. 

Wilson was more prone to gentle and relaxing encounters, even more so now that his belly was stretched with a 16 week fetus. Hal was just as happy with gentle and slow, and had spent the entirety of last Saturday proving just how long he could spend taking James apart. 

Hal had indulging in more sex in the last few weeks than he had in his lifetime. “I don’t feel like a third-wheel,” he said, honestly. He meant it, for two men that had been together for 2 decades, House and Wilson slipped Hal into their lives as easy as breathing. It wasn’t always all three of them, they were too busy for their schedules to always align, but Hal had never felt dismissed. In fact, he spent all week with Greg at work and on their morning jogs, it was James that he only saw in the morning and at night. 

“Would you say something if you did?” James asked, rubbing his thumb along Hal’s marked neck. It sent a pleasant tingle down his spine. 

Hal shrugged, “I don’t know, but I’m sure you would notice.” Deciding now was the best time, Hal shifted out of James hold and snatched his shorts of the floor. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and handed over the envelope he had been keeping there for over a month. “Here,” he said, handing it over. 

James took it, running his hand along the frayed edges. “What’s this?” he asked, opening it up. Inside were three first class tickets to London, leaving in a week. “Hal?”

“Summer break is coming up, I have a month off my rotation to go home. I want…” he paused, cheeks flushed, “I want you both to come with me. To visit my family. Neither of you have met my parents except for in passing and there is my little brother and my uncles. Its important, London is… London is home.” 

James stared at the tickets. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen this, hadn’t felt the conflict through the bond. Hal had clearly been holding on to these tickets for awhile, but had waited until the last minute to bring it up. Hal was a very straight-forward person, always speaking his mind, to hide something like this implied he didn’t think they would want to go. 

“Of course we’ll come. I have my ultrasound today, but after that my paternity leave starts. The hospital has a ridiculously strict Omega pregnancy policy, and I’m quite certain House has enough leave saved up to disappear for a year.” Wilson pressed kisses all over Hal’s face, trying to impress how pleased he was. 

“What’s this then?” Greg asked, standing in the doorway. 

“We’re going to London for a month, we leave Friday,” Wilson says, his tone bookers no argument. 

Greg just shrugs, like its nothing, “Cool.” 

***

They go together to the hospital. Greg and Hal have just enough time to go to James’ ultrasound appointment before they have to start work. 

They are all nervous, the feeling buzzing along the bonds. The OB/GYN looks at them with an indulgent smile when they enter the room. Wilson knows her, Dr. Abby, she is the head of the Maternity Ward, and rarely deals with any but the most difficult of cases. Glancing at Greg and Hal, Wilson guesses they probably count as such. 

“Hello Abby,” he greets, shaking her hand. 

“I wasn’t sure I would ever see you on this side of the table James, you must be ecstatic,” Abby smiles, turning their handshake into a brief hug. 

“I am, but I’ll feel better after this scan.”

Abby nods and gestures towards the table. She has one of the more advanced ultrasounds hooked up beside the table. 

Wilson looks it over, pleased. Its one of the colored ultrasounds thats has a better picture than the black-and-white ones. Greg and Hal stand close at the right of the table, but neither move to take his hand, which he is oddly grateful for. 

Abby talks him through the more technical workings of the machine, but she doesn’t give the usual pregnancy spiel. The gel rubbed over his bare stomach has been warmed, but feels strange. He keeps his eyes fixed on the wand as she rubs it over his stomach. 

The screen is turned away, facing Abby, but the whoosh-whoosh of the baby’s heartbeat fills the air. House stays rooted to the spot, but Hal leans forward, eager to see the screen. 

“Oh,” Abby blinks in surprise, she turns the screen to face them. 

James has to shake his head a few times to focus on what he is looking at. The colored ultrasound gives everything a pinkish-orange sort of sheen. The baby on the screen is twitching, its limbs so small compared to its large head. The baby turns on the screen, and its strange to feel the shift as it happens. With the shift, James spots what had surprised Abby. Resting curled behind its sibling, is another baby. 

_Twins!_

“Oh,” James exclaims, mirroring Abby. “How did we not notice?”

“Their heartbeats are almost in tandem, you would have to know what to listen for to tell. They both look healthy. Growth is where it should be, though I think I will adjust your prenatal vitamins. Would you like to know the sexes?” 

“Twins, Christ, now we really have to move,” Hal comments. He’s got wry smile, like his face can’t quite decide on an expression. 

“Twins,” House repeats, eyes wide. “Is there a chance for heteropaternal superfecundation?”

James’ head jerks to gape at House. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, but of course House would think of it. 

Abby coughs, though whether to hide amusement or embarrassment is hard to tell. “It depends on few things, but the only sure way to tell is DNA testing. You’re having a boy and a girl, by the way.” She bites her lip, a blush spreading across her cheeks, embarrassment then. 

Hal snorts, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “Oh, God, wouldn’t that be something. We could be the poster boys for statistical improbability.”

Wilson feels the touch of hysteria from both bonds, but there is also an overwhelming surge of pride. He shifts off the table, ignoring the unpleasant slide of the gel, and takes Hal in one hand and Greg in the other. “You two okay?” he asks softly. 

Surprisingly, its Greg that moves first, he steps forward into James’ arms. “We’re okay,” he murmurs into his neck. 

“Yeah, we’re okay,” Hal confirms, pulling them both into his arms. 

James tries to ignore how absolutely ridiculous they must look, instead he enjoys the comfort of the two men and tries to wrap his mind around the new information. Twins, Goodness. 

They must stay like that for awhile, because when they pull away Abby has left the room, but there is a CD recording of the Ultrasound sitting on the table. 

Hal takes the disk while James cleans up and pulls on his shirt. “How long do you think it will take before the whole hospital is talking about this?” Hal asks. 

Greg snorts, “I’d give it until lunch at least.” 

“Abby isn’t prone to gossip, how did I manage to bind to such pessimistic men?” Wilson gripes, good-naturedly. 

“Practical, not pessimistic, there’s a difference,” Hal quips. 

“No,” Greg grins, “I’m just pessimistic.” 

Wilson laughs, and feels the bond relax along its tethers. “I have to go talk to Abby, why don’t you two get to work and I’ll relay everything over dinner.” 

“Sure, six?” Hal asks. 

“Yes six, let’s try to not go interfering with Mob business from then til now, eh?” Greg teases. 

“One time! One time I miss dinner,” Hal whines, but he throws his arm around Greg’s shoulder and they leave the room thick as thieves. 

James rolls his eyes, while rubbing at his bump. “Now I’ll have to deal with four children, what have I gotten myself into?” 

***

Hal ends up making dinner. The idea of making Wilson eat take-away one more time this week is just neglectful. He pan-sears salmon and serves it with a side of asparagus and dill cream sauce. Its a fast dish that looks fancy and Wilson is lavish with his praise. 

House gripes, as per usual, but eats two helpings. 

“I’m going to wait for the test until after they’re born, it’s silly to do it now,” James says, apropos of nothing. 

“Are you sure you want to do the test?” Hal asks. 

“I want to know,” Greg injects. 

“Is it going to matter Greg, will you treat them any different if you know for sure?” James asks and his voice is fierce and protective. 

Greg watches him for a time and the silence stretches between them like a chasm before he shakes his head. “No, it won’t matter, but I want to know.” 

It sounds like the truth, but Hal wonders. House had seemed perfectly at ease with the child, or children as it turned out, being Hal’s. The sudden realization that he may be a biological father must be a shock. Of course, Hal is still struggling with the idea himself, he can hardly fault Greg for the shiver of apprehension he feels between the bonds.


	10. Chapter 10

The flight went better than Hal expected. The first class seats were spacious and James spent most of the flight napping. Greg spent the first half reading one of his trashy-romance novels. For the other half of the flight Greg and Hal got into a heated argument about parasites, but James woke up just long enough to tell them to shut up. 

“Will your parents be meeting us at the airport?” James asks with a yawn, stretching as they exited the plane. 

“No, the only time dad is allowed in Heathrow is after my Uncle fills out a bunch of paperwork. We’ll take a cab to Baker Street.” Wilson raises a curious brow, but does not ask him to elaborate on the statement. Hal is glad he didn’t have to explain the Heathrow debacle of 2015. 

They grab their luggage and Hal hails a cab without issue. Now Hal just has to figure out how he is going to tell his parents about House and Wilson. 

***

John leans against the Bank’s wall, watching as one of the newer constables shove the robber into a panda car. Sherlock is off to the side, gesturing wildly as he tries to explain what happened to Sally. Just another Friday. 

“Hal’s coming home this week isn’t he?” Lestrade asks, siding up to him. 

“Hmm,” John hums, “He should be landing now actually.” 

“Do you need to go pick him up?” He asks, brow furrowed. Since Hal had been born, Lestrade has always been protective of him. 

John winces, “Ah no, remember the Orange Lily case?”

“Oh, yeah, guess it would be better to just let him take a cab,” Lestrade winces in sympathy. 

“I’m sure Hal will be hanging out at crime scenes, but we should get together at Angelo’s,” John offers. 

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Lestrade grins. 

Sherlock comes up, his collar popped up, and looking pleased with himself. “Home?”  
“Not yet, Sherlock, just come back to the station to fill out the paperwork for this case. You never do it if I let you wait,” Lestrade says in his no nonsense tone. 

Sherlock scowls, but John only shrugs in response. “Come on, Love, it will take 20 minutes. We’ll still have plenty of time to pick up Coper from school.”

After being with Sherlock for over a decade, John should have known better to think anything could have been a mere 20 minutes. 

***

221B looks just like it always has, a piece of home in the wilds of downtown London. Hal steps out of the car and takes a deep breath of London’s smog filled air. “It’s good to be home,” he says before helping Wilson out of the cab. 

“This is where you grew up?” Wilson asks, gazing up at the brownstone, he looks surprised. 

“Yeah, wait til you see the inside.” Hal and Greg grab the bags, both them united on their protectiveness towards James. 

Hal lets himself inside with his old key. The entrance is as dusty as usual, but it looks like papa aired out 221C for him. “We had some trouble with space when Coper was born, but Papa fixed up the basement for me so I could have my own room.” 

“Hmm quaint,” House grumbles, looking down the stairs. 

“Don’t be a prat,” Hal rolls his eyes at the man before leading them down. 

221C had to be completely renovated to get rid of the mold and damp, but now the basement flat is painted white to make the area brighter and the two windows are framed by sheer, light-blue curtains to let in the most light. The ceiling is still a bit low for Hamish’s comfort, but he enjoys all the room to himself. 

“This is a lot of room for a teenager, must have been nice,” Wilson comments, walking over the fireplace and picking up one of his old animal skulls. 

“It was, I love my family desperately and we all live out of each others pockets, but we can fight like enemy nations sometimes,” Hal laughs, putting the luggage down in his room. He has a queen bed, an indulgence when he was younger, but now it looks so small for three adults. 

He is still contemplating the room when his phone buzzes. He pulls up the text from Papa, it reads, “Can u pick up Coper from school? Sry.” 

“Well, there’s no telling what they got themselves into this time,” Hal laughs, showing the message to House and Wilson. 

“Is everything okay?” Wilson asks. 

“Oh, I’m sure they’re fine. Come on, I can properly introduce you to my terror of a little brother,” Hal says. 

They walk to Coper’s school, its barely a kilometer and it gives Hal a chance to talk about London. He shows them the famous landmarks and some of the infamous ones. Even House looks charmed, looking around at the bustling city with interest. He seems especially interested in Hal’s retelling of some of his dad’s more ridiculous cases. 

Coper is waiting for them at the entrance to the school, well, sort of waiting. He’s elbow deep in the school’s pretentious water fountain. Hal’s not sure if he is taking samples or nicking coins. 

“‘Lo Coper,” he calls, waving. 

Coper jerks up, splashing water over the sides of the marble. “HAL!” he exclaims, jumping from the fountain and encircling him in a soggy hug. “I didn’t know you were coming to get me.” 

“Dad and Papa got held up at work, I thought you’d enjoy the surprise,” he winked. 

“I do,” Coper grins, but quickly turns his excitement on the two men standing behind Hal. “You’re the Doctor from before,” he says, eyes narrowing as he starts making deductions. “You’re pregnant,” he breathes, eyes wide. “Hal?”

“Er...Yeah,” Hal blushes, turning Coper so he can gesture at House and Wilson. “These are my mates, Dr. Gregory House and Dr. James Wilson.” 

“Mates as in plural,” Coper squawks. 

“It’s a long story, how about we head home for now,” Hal suggests.

Coper narrows his gaze, mouth twisted in the start of a sulk. “Fine.” 

They walk back to the flat, while Coper flits about. Occasionally he’ll blurt out a deduction, telling House about his pain pill addiction and that Wilson’s favorite food is strawberries - that last one is apparently true and Hal had no idea. 

Hal is petrified about introducing his family and his mates, but he can’t help the pleased smile that crosses his face as he watches his little brother. Coper inherited all of dad’s inquisitive nature and love of life, tempered by papa’s ability to make friends with everyone. 

“I’ll order takeaway, how’s curry sound?” Hal says as they make their way into the flat. This time he leads them up to 221B. The living room looks untouched since he left a year ago, except for slight changes in the piles of paperwork. The skull is still grinning on the fireplace, and there seems to be the usual number of have finished tea cups about the place. 

“Curry sounds good,” Wilson responds, he chuckles as he looks at the victorian wallpaper behind the old sofa.“This seems oddly fitting.”

“Dad’s eccentric,” Coper pipes up, handing Hal the menu to his prefered curry place.

“Word of the day?” Hal teases. 

“No,” Coper pouts, but Hal can see the calendar in the kitchen. 

He orders food while Coper interrogates House about Lupus, which seems to please the man, so Hal leaves them be. 

Wilson sits on the couch, looking exhausted while trying to fight off jet lag. Hal curls into his side, resting his head against Wilson’s shoulder. Its relaxing, he’s filled with the scent of his pregnant mate and the unique mixture that is home. He sees Coper shooting him curious looks, but his little brother, surprisingly, doesn’t mention it. 

Of course, just as Hal begins to relax, the door downstairs slams open and he hears his parents stumble in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be longer, and fricken awesome, I promise.


	11. Chapter 11

When John enters 221B he fulling expects to catch the comforting scent of his two children, what he doesn’t expect is the scent of an unfamiliar pregnant omega and Alpha. His growl is mirrored by Sherlock; their den has been invaded. 

Hamish appears at the top of the stairs with a sheepish grin. “Dad, Papa, I have something I need to tell you.” 

“Is everything alright?” John asks, running up the stairs to check his eldest over. He looks fine and his scent is healthy, still that odd mix of alpha and omega. 

“I’m fine papa, just…” Hal trails off, stepping back so he can let his parents into the flat. 

House is still sitting in Dad’s chair with Coper perched in front of him, and Wilson is on the couch, his stomach obvious. 

John looks at them curiously, but Sherlock catches on immediately. He snarls, approaching House with murder in his eyes. 

“Dad, no!” Hal shouts, jumping between them. “We all shared a heat together, it was very consensual. James is pregnant with your grandchildren.” 

“You’re mated? All three of you?”John asks, surprised. 

Sherlock still looks fit to punch Greg in the face, but he steps back and takes a deep breath. “I warned you House,” he growls, teeth bared in challenge. 

Hal wasn’t sure how he expected House to respond, but he was certainly surprised to see the man tilt his head, offering his throat in submission. Of course, the move revealed the double scars James and Hal had left. 

“Let’s sit, yeah. Talk about this like civilized people,” John suggests, placing a comforting hand on Sherlock’s back. 

“I agree, I think there has been enough posturing for one day,” Wilson huffs, he still hasn’t bothered to move from the sofa, watching the scene unfold with exasperation.

Sherlock glares, but takes a seat in his armchair. Hal returns to his place at Wilson’s side, and in a sign of solidarity, House takes the remaining bit of couch. John takes up his own armchair. Coper, being Coper, plunked down on the floor with a wide grin at the show. 

“Perhaps you could start from the beginning, Hal,” John suggests. 

“Yeah, um,” he scratches the back of his neck, nervous. “It was mostly my idea actually. James went into heat and originally Greg and I got into a dominance fight over him, but when I won it all just seemed so simple. I invited them both back to my flat and yeah…” He shrugs. 

“I wasn’t aware a triple bond was even possible, was that planned?” Sherlock questions. 

Hal shook his head. “Not really no. I mean we all marked each other during the heat, but I honestly didn’t think it would take. It wasn’t even confirmed until Greg had to go to the hospital with leg pain. Turns out we are all emotionally bonded.” 

“What? Really!” John blinks, looking at the three of them in surprise. “And James is obviously pregnant, do you know, um whose?” 

This time James answers, holding a protective hand against his stomach. “No, its twins, we won’t do any testing until they are born.” 

“And you are okay with all of this,” Sherlock asks. He was posing the question to James, but they all nod. “Fine,” he huffs, “Welcome to the family, I suppose.” Sherlock then stands and leaves the room, John can hear him entering Mrs. Hudson’s old flat, it had been turned into a new lab after she moved in with her sister in the country. 

Hal stands to follow him, but John shakes his head. “Leave him, you know how your dad is, he’ll get over it once he works through everything. You’ll always be his baby.” 

“Hey!” Coper squawked, looking offended. 

“Of course, you are too, love,” John teases, ruffling his hair. 

After that disaster, everything cools down a bit. John makes tea and Hal grabs the curry when it comes. Sherlock stays in 221A, making a racquet, but nothing explodes. 

Its almost dark when Sherlock comes back upstairs, he’s dressed in his Belstaff and looks ready to head out again. “I’m borrowing Greg,” he states. 

“Dad,” Hal bites his lip, “please leave him in one piece.” 

“Of course,” Sherlock winks. 

“Should I be worried about that murder you promised me last time?” Greg snarks, walking over to the detective. 

“Well,” Sherlock smirks, “It won’t be your own, if that’s any consolation.” 

“Lovely,” House rolls his eyes, but follows Sherlock as he runs down the stairs. 

John watches after them, an amused look on his face. “I think I just got momentarily replaced.” 

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” James asks, he’s heard horror stories about the adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. 

“Relatively,” John shrugs, and goes back to reading the paper. Hal and James share a concerned glance. 

***

House has mixed opinions about Sherlock Holmes. On one hand he is the father of a man he cares very much about, and if nothing else it’s nice to be around someone that sees the world like he does. On the other hand, they are walking through a sewer. 

“What is that?” House groans, the scent of the sewer is an overpowering thing that clogs his nose and mouth and makes him want to gag. Its worse than c-diff in the intensive care unit, and thats saying something. 

“You really don’t want to know,” Sherlock answers from behind his scarf. House had wondered why the man had been wearing a scarf in summer. The detective was using the fabric to cover his nose while House floundered about in his t-shirt. 

House scowls, but follows after the man in silence. He’s half expecting Sherlock to turn around and murder him, they are certainly in the right place for it. The detective, however, had explained that they were on the hunt for a mob dumping sight. Apparently, earlier in the day, he and John had been brought a case by some government official to find where the London mob was trading guns and drugs with a local terrorist organization. And House thought his cases were crazy!

As they wander through the sewers, Sherlock stops abruptly and knells to examine something on the floor. House looks over his shoulder, but it only looks like ash. “Lucky Strike,” Sherlock murmurs, rubbing the grey powder between his fingers, “hmm.” 

“As in the cigarette?” Greg asks, skeptical. 

“Yes, can’t you tell?” he asks holding up the powder. 

It’s certainly ash, but thats about the extent of knowledge House has on the subject. He shrugs, “Not really my area.” 

Sherlock chuckles, waving him on, “Come on, we’re close.” He moves quickly around the corner and there is a sharp thud. 

House is right behind him, fast enough to catch the metal pole coming for his head, but not fast enough to do anything about it. “Shit.” 

***

“I hope Dad didn’t kill him; I like Greg,” Coper comments from his spot on the chair. He’s laying over the armrests with his hair nearly touching the ground. He grins at the upside down room even as his cheeks grow flush with the blood rushing to his head. 

“Coper, sit up you’ll give yourself a headache, and your dad didn’t kill Greg,” John sighs, rolling his eyes at his youngest. 

“I’m surprised Sherlock took him on a case, I was under the impression they really don’t like each other. Not that many people like House, but…” James shrugs. 

“They are very similar, I’m not surprised they clash, or that Hal likes him so much. A case is Sherlock’s way of breaking the ice, that’s how we courted actually,” John’s brow furrows, “in a roundabout sort of way anyhow.” 

James sits up a better, putting the Union Jack pillow behind his back for support. “Hal never was very straight forward about how you two met, it’s a bit unusual isn’t it? An Army doctor Alpha with a high class omega like Sherlock, no offense.” 

“Oh, none taken,” John laughs, “It’s a bit of a long story actually.” 

“I’ve got time, I want to wait up for them, even if Hal passed out an hour ago.” 

“He’s never been good with jet lag, well I suppose its an interesting story if nothing else,” John grins. “It all started just before I was getting ready to deploy…”

James listens, enraptured by the crazy story of drugs and confusion, of the emotional bond and the ten year separation. Coper looks just as interested, perched on the edge of his seat as he hangs on to John’s every word. 

It’s about an hour for John to finish the story, telling about the serial killer cabbie and Vatican Cameos. Then he tells Coper to go to bed, an order met with some resistance, but finally the young man relents and stomps up to his room for dramatic effect. 

“I can barely believe it, that’s quite the story. I couldn’t imagine not knowing I even had a child, and for ten years,” James murmurs, rubbing his stomach. 

“We wouldn’t be who we are today if it wasn’t for the separation, no matter how much I hate having missed so much of Hal growing up. He was practically his own person when I came onto the scene, a ten-year-old adult. It alway amazed me how easily I fit into life with them. Sherlock was hesitant of course and it took us ages to bond for real, of course half of that involved a madman named Moriarty, but that’s a story for another day. Its getting late, you should go to bed.” John walks over to the couch and offers his hand to James. 

“You’re not worried about them?” James asks, taking the offered hand. He’s not so big that getting up and down is a choir, but he’s used to protective Alpha’s by now. 

“It’s only 1, it won’t be time to call out the search party until at least 0500. Get some sleep, they will be fine.” John tells him. 

James relents with a sigh, and goes downstairs to the basement. He curls up beside Hal, and the man hardly shifts as the bed dips. 

***

Greg wakes with a headache worse than that time he purposefully electrocuted himself. It feels like his skull has crack and brain matter is drizzling out his ears, but he knows he’s being overly dramatic. His vision is only slightly hazy though the light above stings and his stomach is rolling with nausea. “Ugg, concussion,” he groans. 

“Minor, don’t be a child,” Sherlock retorts. 

It’s then, that Greg realizes he is tied to a chair. Tied to a chair beside Sherlock Holmes who is also tied to a chair. _Fantastic_. “Fuck off,” he tells the detective, though he has to do it quietly, his head really does hurt. 

Sherlock chuckles at that, but leaves him a whole five minutes to wallow in his injures before starting up again. “It was the mob of course, I had suspected that the sudden police involvement would up the date of their drop off, but I did not think they would up it to today, how unfortunate. We aren’t far from the sewers, this is an abandoned train station only 5.4 kilometers from where we were ambushed.” 

“That’s rather specific,” Greg drawls. He won’t ever admit it, but he’s slightly - _slightly_ \- impressed. 

Clapping echoes through the tunnel, reverberating along the brick so that it sounds like its coming from all directions.

“Very impressive, Mr. Holmes. I had heard you knew London better than anyone alive, but I admit I was not so certain,” a man’s voice says. 

In the shadows, Greg can just make out a shape approaching them. The man that steps into the light is in his late-forties, bald, and skinny. There are smudges under his eyes from lack of sleep. His arms, however, are strongly muscled and look like they could do some damage with the right motivation

“Mr. De La Torre, I presume,” Sherlock greets, like they are sitting down to tea. 

The man inclines his head, “You presume correctly.” He snaps his fingers, the sound echoing loudly, and three more men step forward, all have holstered guns. “But we have a problem gentlemen. You see I can’t have the famous Sherlock Holmes on my case, but killing you is more trouble than you’re worth. Especially since this man is not Dr. Watson, where is your vicious attack dog, hmm?” 

“Oh you know John,” Sherlock says flippantly, “always taking his time.” 

“Hal’s like that,” Greg adds, smirking at the men, “must get his timing from Papa.” 

“Afraid so,” Sherlock sighs, looking put out. 

De La Torre is nearly fuming with rage. “Shut up,” he snarls. One of his goons steps forward and punches them both. The chairs hardly rock, the men had taken the time to bolt them to the floor. 

Greg shakes off the ringing in his ears. He spits a glob of blood in the direction of the man that punched him, but it falls short. The ropes tying his arms behind his back are too tight, he would have to rub the skin bloody to pull out of them, he can only hope Sherlock has a plan. He watches the leader, trying to think of how to draw the man’s attention to give Sherlock the time he needs to get free. 

It’s only because he is watching closely that he notices that De La Torre has distinct sores around his mouth. Greg had not thought anything of the man’s size when he first walked in, but there are obvious signs of dramatic weight loss in the fit of his clothes and the looseness of his skin. 

Greg has to lean in his chair and tilt his head just right, but aha! The fingernails. “This kidnapping business must be hell on your stomach,” Greg comments, sitting back in his chair and offering an empathetic smile. 

“What?” the man stares at him, wide-eyes. 

Good, he’d surprised him. “All this stress, plus your migraine, I’m sure your stomach is in knots. Have to be careful with that disease, it can do a lot of damage, but I’m sure you know that. You must have management of it down to a tee, by now,” House says. 

“Who are you?” De La Torre asks, stepping closer so he can get a better look at House. 

“You don’t recognize him?” Sherlock asks in false surprise. “He is the renowned Dr. Gregory House, diagnostician.” 

“Oh,” the man sniffs, “did you upgrade to a better model?” 

“Good enough to tell you what you have, it must have been a shock when you started coughing up blood, did the doctors test you for TB and say you were fine. Just the flu or a little stomach bug,” House gives his best condescending sneer. 

“Tell me what I have, now!” De La Torre snarls, wrapping a hand around House’s throat and squeezing in threat. 

House shifts against the hold, wheezing, “Let me do a proper examination, untie me, and I’ll tell you everything I know.” 

***

The morning welcomes 221B with absolute panic. John’s phone has no messages or missed calls. They had agreed in the early months of their courtship that they would text each other every six hours they were separated during a case. In over ten years the only time this rule was broken involved Moriarty and a vest of explosives. 

John immediately calls Lestrade and Mycroft. Mycroft confirms that Sherlock’s cell was last tracked going into the sewer system near Brixton at 2346, but the signal was lost shortly after. 

“We need to check his last known location, we may find clues to their location or who has them,” Hal states, only staying calm because this is hardly his first kidnapping. 

James is gritting his teeth, but staying mostly calm, taking deep breaths and reminding himself of all the crap House had gotten into and out off over the years. “I’m going with you, sewers or not,” James states firmly. 

John and Hal agree without protest, a sign of their uncommon relationship with omegas over the years. They take a cab to the coordinates Mycroft gave to John. Unfortunately, the location is a mess of mud and in the early morning it is already a riot of footprints from the homeless population that reside in the tunnels. 

Hal looks everywhere, uses all of the tricks his dad has taught him, but the clues are gone, trampled in the morning light. “Papa, I can’t,” he chokes, “I can’t see anything.” 

John squeezes his shoulder, then pulls him in for a one-armed hug. “Its okay, we’ll find them. Let’s head to Scotland Yard, maybe Uncle Greg has something.” 

“Shouldn’t we be able to sense something?” James asks, as they bundle into a cab to NSY. 

John shrugs, unsure, “Its off and on for Sherlock and I, but I’ve never had much luck pinpointing his exact location except for when he was pregnant with Coper, then I was hyper aware of him.” 

Hal licks his lip, a habit he picked up from John, “I’ve never been able to really sense Greg or James, just emotional things through the bond. Greg doesn’t seem to be in much pain though, the mark is pretty calm.” 

James nods in agreement, “I felt a sting in the middle of the night, but since then, nothing.”

At NSY, Lestrade is waiting for them, pacing nervously in front of the entrance. “John, Hal,” he greets, looking frazzled. “I can’t believe that idiot pranced off on his own again.” 

“Well not exactly,” Hal interjects, “he was with my mate.” 

“Oh well that… wait what?!” Lestrade sputters, “Mate?”

“Yeah, um Dr. Greg House, and this is my other mate, Dr. James Wilson,” Hal indicates James. “But that’s not important, did you have any luck figuring out who did this?”

Lestrade blinks _very slowly_ , but shakes the shock off. “Um, yeah we are certainly going to have a talk about that one later, but first Sherlock.” He leads them back to his office where a map has already been set up. There are a few pictures pinned to the side of possible suspects. 

Hal peers at each one, but finally taps the bottom picture. It’s hazy, a CCTV photo of a man getting into his car, but the description reads, ‘Jorge De La Torre, head of the London Mob.’ “This man, what was Dad investigating him for?”

Lestrade takes a closer look at the picture, “Ahh, that was just yesterday actually. I asked him to look into a weapons smuggling ring. Usually he doesn’t deal with mob business, but we think terrorists are involved.” 

“Did he think they were using the old tunnels to ferry the weapons?” Hal asks. 

Lestrade shakes his head, unsure, but John steps forward. “Yes, he mentioned it before we got home yesterday. I wouldn’t be surprised if he walked right into the exchange.” 

“Then that’s who we need to find,” Hal grins, pleased to have a lead. The game is on!

***

House still can’t believe that they actually untied him, but there isn’t much he can do to overpower the four men in the room. Instead, he’s going to have to be smart about this. He actually does the exam, making sure to confirm his diagnosis. 

“Well,” De La Torre snarls. “What is it?” 

“Oh nothing deadly just yet. What do you know about Celiac’s disease?” House asks. He’s trying so hard not to sound smug, he’d rather not take another iron pipe to the skull. 

The mob boss frowns, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to look intimidating. House can tell he has no idea what the disease is. 

“I can write you a prescription, if you can get me a pad. Vitamin B12 deficiency can be nasty, and you are already showing long term signs in your fingernails.” House puts on his best Doctor’s smile; he imagines it’s a horrible parody of Wilson’s. 

“Yes, that would be…” the man trails off, snapping his fingers to get one of his goons attention. “Ariza, make that happen.” 

The goon looks startled and a little confused, but he runs off to do what he’s told.  
While they are waiting, House gets strapped back into the chair. The ropes are still too tight, and Sherlock doesn’t seem to be having much luck with his either. 

By the time Ariza comes back with the stolen prescription pad, however, House has a plan. He writes a basic dose of Prednisone and a B12 shot, but he signs the pad Dr. John H. Watson. He has to make the signature almost unreadable, to pass De La Torre’s scrutiny. He can only hope the note will flag something for the omniscient Uncle, Hal told him about. 

All they can do after that, is wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you this one would be longer. :D


End file.
